Baby Don't Reply
by TheWalk
Summary: Ron changed. Harry followed but promises Hermione he is with her and looking for a solution, leaving her in the hands of who he sees as the most capable person. Malfoy. Hermione can do nothing but watch and hope Harry knows what he is doing...
1. The Matter of Being Bought

**Baby Don't Reply**

**Chapter One: the Matter of Being Bought**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

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For Hermione Granger it was not a matter of being bought. No, she did not even receive the opportunity to be bought. She was simply taken. No bidding or anything of the sort; for her there was only one end.

Perhaps if she had been bid upon she could have been saved. Perhaps Harry would have changed the plan, decided it was all for the best otherwise and bought her, saved her from the hell she had been living in for the past weeks. Perhaps.

Hermione stretched her legs out as far as the small iron cage would allow and considered her predicament. She was trapped like an animal in this dungeon. And it sounded like a hollow full of wild animals. Women screamed and sobbing, women being hit for their loudness. She alone remained silent. For she alone had witnessed the most heartbreaking blow life had ever presented her with.

Her parents had died all too soon, murdered in Australia silently and without fuss. Luna had disappeared within the next week, Neville following soon after. People were dropping like flies without a sound. Then came the impossible ultimatum. Surrender Potter or everyone dies…

Hermione recalled how they hugged and held onto one another and promised they would never turn their backs on each other. How they cried and prayed and kissed, hoping for the impossible win; a group of innocent children was all they were.

Then broke out the battle, Piccadilly Circus turned into a combat zone, muggles tried to flee but most were murdered. Accidently for stepping into a line of fire, or by deatheaters who had nothing better to do. That was how life had been for the past few months, they were all fighting on the battle field, and then Ron and Harry had left to do something…some mission…

She remembered that one moment where everything changed…Hermione and Ginny were running as fast as Ginny's full stomach would allow. They needed to get out and get out then. The walls were crumbling and their safe hold was no longer secure. Hermione could only remember running past others and pushing her way through a small crowded hall. She cared for no other life than Ginny's. She came to the room thrusting Ginny through the door and pushing her towards the floo. Screaming at her to go anywhere and run while she tried to hold off the attacking deatheaters. Hermione was frightened, terrified to be so alone. Ron and Harry had been gone for months on a mission and probably had no idea that she and Ginny were in danger yet.

Hermione had locked the door with spells as best she could while she attempted to calm Ginny down. Finally Hermione grabbed a handful of floo and flooed them to the only place she could consider even remotely safe; her parent's country home. She could only pray that the floo was still connected after two summers. Just as they disappeared in a burst of green flame the door was blasted open.

There wasn't even a moment to spare. They scrambled out of the fireplace and ran right out the front door; their feet slipping on the hardwood floors. The deatheaters were on their tail within minutes. She and Ginny ran across the wide open field pushing through tall grass and flowers as the sun slowly set. Their bodies were hitting the limit only to reach that soft little spot of trees not far off. Hermione thought if they could reach that bit of trees they would have just enough time to hide and contact help. Perhaps make it out safe.

Ginny stumbled bringing Hermione down with her. At that moment Hermione could recall a sensation that felt like she had swallowed her heart. "COME ON!" Hermione screamed her voice was raw with fear. She had tried to pull Ginny up, but it seemed Ginny had given up. "No, Gin, please come on" Hermione whined tugging on her arm. Ginny struggled to stand but she barely did. A curse flew past Hermione's ear blowing her hair back. She could see the deatheaters running towards them.

"Almost there Gin" Hermione sobbed grabbing Ginny's hand tightly and running towards the shelter of trees. Hermione fumbled with her wand sending haphazard spells behind her as they continued to run. She managed to get a few down.

She felt a searing pain hit her in the back, she continued for only a few more steps before she fell down face first. "Run Gin" Hermione groaned trying to stand. Ginny had nodded and continued to run, but the attacks stopped. It seemed that the deatheaters had received what they wanted. Ginny was not what they cared for at all. Hermione saw her reach the cover of the trees before she was roughly turned over. She glared defiantly at the masked face, there were not words exchanged but none were necessary. She groaned softly as another wave of pain hit her from behind. Whatever curse they had hit her with was brilliant.

"Where is Potter?" the mask asked her.

Hermione laughed deliriously "Fuck me" she had sneered. Not the smartest move now that she thought back upon it.

"Crucio" the mask said lazily. Hermione could not even feel the curse; actually she was not sure which curse she was feeling. But all she knew was the she was slowly going numb. She felt as though she was being pushed through a paper-shredder. But the pain was dying away; her endorphins were kicking in to save her. "Bring the whore" the mask said again.

Hermione's breath hitched, how could they have? Ginny was thrown to the man above her. "Gin" Hermione whispered sadly. No, she had seen her get to the trees. How could they…

"I'm sorry Hermione" Ginny whispered sadly "I tried but I couldn't make it".

"Now, where is Potter?" the man sighed pressing his wand to Ginny's swollen belly. Hermione bit her lip, they had made a pact. They had all sworn and Ginny knew the consequences as well as Hermione did. There was not a word to be uttered.

"Crucio" the mask muttered. Ginny fell forward clutching her stomach but making not a sound. Hermione had never admired anyone more than Ginny at that moment. Her heart was aching, she wanted to save Ginny and the baby, but she knew it was in vain. If they told them where Harry and Ron were they would only be killed anyway. Better to remain quiet and hope for a miracle.

"TELL ME!" the man said angrily. He seemed to be loosing his cool. Hermione felt something familiar in his tone. Something she knew well. But it did not sound like anyone she knew…no…it did…

Hermione smirked at him, "Sure I'll tell you" she said softly, teasingly. Anything to take their attention away from Ginny.

"Yes…" the man said bending down beside her. The switch in Hermione's brain clicked as she recognized the voice and her body responded in disgust. Convulsions hit her back as she lunged forward.

Hermione spit in his face. There was a moment of shocked silence shared by all. The moment of silence was broken with a loud slap. Hermione laughed through the pain. She was not intimidated; she had been prepared to die for the cause since she had become friends with Harry. Death did not scare her. What scared her was the man behind the mask. Had it really been so long? What had happened?

"Kill her" the man said removing his mask and smiling down at Hermione. She choked on her spit.

Ron Weasley was just smiling at her like it was another day at the burrow. She drew in a shaky breath and waited for death. The deatheaters advanced on her, she knew they were all grinning under their masks.

"Not her, the Weasley" Ron drawled. Hermione's brain was racking itself trying to find an answer for what was happening. Why was Ron dressed as a deatheater, why was he torturing them? Why did he want to kill his own sister? What spell was he under?

Hermione gasped in outrage, "No!" she cried; finding the strength to get on her feet she lunged at Ginny. Ron's single outstretched arm sent her sprawling back to the ground. "NO PLEASE! RON WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she screamed crawling to Ginny. Ginny had turned white and she was staring at Ron as though he were a ghost.

"Ron?" Ginny whispered in disbelief.

"Now" Ron said urgently, a sickening happiness wrapped about his tongue. His face was contorted with nauseating glee. It could not have been Ron. It must have been some dirty trick.

Ginny turned to look at Hermione sadly; "Gin" Hermione whispered reaching to her. Wanting to comfort her best friend in the clutches of death.

"Fine you idiots. I'll do it" Ron muttered grabbing Ginny by her hair and pulling her to her feet "Avada Kedavra" said Ron, lazily pointing his wand at Ginny. A flash of green light and the whooshing sound of a high speed object coming towards them and Ginny was on the ground.

Hermione stopped breathing. She had forgotten how to breathe at the moment, Ginny was dead. Gone, and so was Harry's child… Hermione gasped for air but she wasn't receiving any. Gone.

"What's wrong with her? Who did that! Why is she turning blue…?"

Hermione's eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

And here she was now.

In this tiny cage in a dungeon with twenty other remaining witches. Only twenty _free_ witches remained, the rest had been killed or sold. Only twenty women who had been on her side were here with her now. And those here were broken beyond repair. Lost children, husbands, lovers…

Hermione had lost too. She had lost her best friends. And her lover…

She had been in this hole for two weeks, and in two weeks her world had turned around.

Voldemort had won. That was it. How? Ron gave up. Why? She did not know. She wished she knew but she did not. She couldn't imagine why Ron would just let Voldemort take over. All of their hard work, all of their lives spent to prevent this from happening gone in a moment. Harry then joined Voldemort's ranks too. He had visited her briefly last week to assure her that he and the remaining members of the Order were all working on a comeback plan, but that this was the only way to ensure safely for time being.

Hermione was unsure if it was even Harry talking to her. She was skeptical of everything. She hoped so desperately that Harry was in his right mind and was only fooling Voldemort; she desperately hoped it to be so. But she could not know. Ron had betrayed them, Ron had killed all of his family but for Percy, who had gladly joined Voldemort's ranks.

Hermione suspected that it was Ginny's death that truly broke Harry's resolve. Ron's betrayal of the order and of their friendship was the added blow to Harry's grief. But no matter what Ron had done Hermione knew Harry was trying to save him by giving in to Voldemort. He was working to free Ron and her. Eventually things would be okay. Loosing a wife and child was enough to send anyone over the edge. But she had never thought Harry would go so far as to even pretend that he was with Voldemort. Never had she though it. And Ron? Who knew what had happened to him. He could not have gone willingly, he could not have. He must have been under some curse. For Hermione knew in her heart Ron would not have betrayed them as such.

They had accomplished nothing! All of their hard work meant nothing; all of the horocruxes destroyed left Voldemort so weak. If only they had had time to kill him and finish it all. If only.

And yet the only result of their actions was the deaths of muggleborns and the enslavement of all others. The guard at her cell had told her that she was the last mudblood on the face of the world. And that she was only alive because many of the deatheaters held her in esteem. The thought made her want to vomit. They did not hold her in esteem, they were frightened of her, and she was the reminder to keep on their tirade. Harry was probably keeping her safe from death. And the deatheaters would not want her dead, for she was the ticking bomb to remind them of how things could be. Hermione was the last living opposition.

And now she sat in her tiny box and waited for Harry's next word. To know how many of the Order were left, to know what to do next. But for now, all Harry had told her was that she was safe. And that he would contact her should things change. He had told her he was working on a plan and he assured her he would contact her soon with its contents. Then came the low blow, Harry told her she was Malfoy's to flaunt and to parade as his prize for _gettin__g_ Potter. She was the woman of the trio; the brains behind the brawn and heart. A trophy.

Harry had told her that he had let Malfoy convince him to join the Deatheaters. He had explained this to her before the news broke public so she would not be alarmed. He reminded her it was all a farce. And told her to repeat it every time things became too real for her. Hermione loved Harry and she would believe him no matter what.

Hermione wiped away her tears and sighed softly. She had tried starving herself, choking herself, anything to get a rise out of anybody around her. But after the first few times Malfoy had demanded a permanent guard by her cell to watch her. They would not even grant her death, or even a tad bit of fun. They wanted her to live hell before she actually had to go there.

If Malfoy owned her was he going to keep her here forever? Not that she minded, she would rather have rotted away in this little box than have had to see his face ever again. He could not have been as so stupid to actually want her in his presence. For if Hermione saw Malfoy, she would not able to control herself.

Her fingers ached to feel his neck beneath them. She wanted his skin and blood under her nails. She wanted him beneath her, dying slowly and bleeding out. She wanted him dead. She felt in her heart that it was his doing for Ron's actions.

"Hey mudblood?" the guard said smacking her cage. Hermione ignored him and kept her eyes straight ahead.

"I 'eard you going home tomorrow, maybe even sooner than 'at" he chortled smacking the metal bars again. Hermione turned her face away from him.

"You should be 'appy mudblood bitch, you be much better off than these other whores" he mumbled looking around.

"You are lucky, lucky because you were Potters wee friend. Otherwise you'd be dead like 'em odder muddies" he continued on to himself.

"I wouldn't call this lucky" Hermione muttered silently.

"Wad'ya says? Eh! She talks" he laughed poking his fat fingers through her cage to touch her. Amusement was apparent in his voice as though he was a small child at a zoo and she was the monkey.

"Yes she does talk, too much for my taste. That will have to be fixed. And please do not touch her with your filthy fat hands" Draco muttered as he stepped into the grime of the dungeon. He crinkled his nose at the smell and sounds of the other women. This was not what he had expected, but he had not known what to expect. Perhaps some better treatment. He hadn't quite expected these women to be treated like animals, these were all purebloods. With the exception of Granger. Until now that was.

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**A/N: **Gosh, my readers will hate me. This is another one to update. Oh well, I had to get this plot down too before I forgot it. But do not fear readers! Am I not a good updater? I update more often than most, so I promise to keep up on the updating of all of the other ones. I swear that I shall not get lazy. Yeah, I'm looking for something a little darker, I feel very fluffly about everything else I write so I thought I'd have an angry vegence fic to even it all out. I hope you enjoy. 


	2. Resign and Reason

**Chapter Two: Resign and Reason**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Harry Potter.

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Hermione did not turn to look, but she had flinched loudly. That was much sooner that she had expected, this was definitely not tomorrow. But why should anyone tell her anything? She was to follow orders and do as she was told by Harry and by others; she didn't need to know when she would be taken from the pound.

That was exactly the word Hermione had been looking for. This whole place reminded her of a dog pound. Whining and scratching mutts just looking to be loved and taken in. Not likely.

Hermione kept her eyes away from the bars, determined to not look at anyone. "Actually sir, she isn't been yapping since they got'er in 'ere" The guard said trying to sound serious. Unfortunately both Hermione and Draco were on the same wavelength when they though him an imbecile. "Dunno why" he added solemnly.

"Maybe your lack of grammar makes me too sick to talk" Hermione muttered softly. She recoiled when she heard Malfoy laugh softly.

"What was that comment Granger?" he asked in amusement. Hermione said nothing in return she continued to stare at the back of her box. "I asked you a question Granger; turn and answer me" Malfoy said coolly.

Hermione refused, she wasn't going to do his bidding. He didn't scare her. He was a spoiled brat from the day she met him, and he still was. There was nothing about him that made him better than her. She was only in his care because Harry had placed her there. Harry had been given the option of where to place her, other than with himself. And he had placed her with Malfoy. Why, she would never know. "Is she sick?" Malfoy asked the guard.

"Naw, she been like that f'ever" the guard sighed.

She heard Malfoy click his tongue in impatience. "Unlock her" he demanded. Hermione listened to the guard fumbled with his keys. Then she heard the click of the lock and felt the whoosh of air as the barred door swung open. But she did not move.

"Take her out" Malfoy said.

Hermione felt rough arms wrap themselves around her waist and drag her out. "Let go you brute!" she screamed turning around and punching the guard as hard as she could. He dropped her onto the cold hard stone and grabbed his nose.

"The muddie hit me!" he groaned still holding his nose and stepping away from her. Malfoy was laughing in amusement. Hermione picked herself off the ground and dusted off her robes. The same robes she had been wearing the day Ginny had died.

She then forced herself to look at Malfoy. Surprisingly she did not vomit or lunge at his throat. No, she simply stared at him and he stared back.

He knew she would not be easy to break. In fact he did not even believe he would be able to break her. But a part of him didn't want to. He wanted what he had three years ago; he wanted to be in sixth year making snide comments as she walked by with Potter. That was what he lived for. Not this. He had never expected Voldemort to win, and now that he had…Draco's life had no purpose. This was not what he had intended for himself.

He had nothing more to fight for. Staring at Granger he was reminded of his school years. He was reminded of simpler days. Before he was required to work for Voldemort, back when he had had actual friends and back when there were things that could make him happy. She looked the same as she had before. Well…no that was untrue, she was grown. She was a women and she looked like one. But she was Granger all around, the angry lines around her mouth, the nose in the air and head full of hair. And after much pleading and promising with Potter he had received her. And Potter had made him promise much in exchange for Granger's company.

He was still Malfoy, still blond and arrogant and deserving of death. Hermione had once expected him to grow out of it; she had once believed that he had a chance to change. But that was a silly belief. Hermione had always assumed Malfoy didn't want to be like his father, but it seemed he did. He had only grown taller and more handsome, no more was he a scrawny little arse. No he was a tall, built, arse. Hermione would have trouble hurting him physically now.

"Granger you will be coming back with me to the manor" Draco began, and then waited for her to interrupt, but she said nothing so he continued "And you shall be in my possession, and you are to do as I say" he concluded.

"And what am I? Your maid, shoe cleaner, a cook, and good forbid perhaps a concubine?" she asked with a wry smile edging him on. She wasn't going to bend over for him, if he was going to _own_ her she'd give him the hardest time she could.

Draco returned the smile graciously; she was still Granger, and he expected nothing less of her. "You are to be nothing but Granger, simply yourself. You are to be like a lovely new cloak and hang about me. I will be eating dinner with you, taking you to events and parading you like my prize poodle" he said with a smirk.

Hermione snorted, "Right. Will there be pageants too?" she asked with a mock interest plastered to her face.

"Yes there will, which is why you will have to always be presentable. You are a sign of my important status. You represent the name Malfoy, and so you should represent royalty and pride" he said taking off his gloves and coming closer to her.

"I am a mudblood, so I hardly represent royalty" Hermione replied "What on earth could you want with me? It probably would have saved you trouble if you had just killed me back when you had a chance". She couldn't understand why Malfoy would plead with Harry for her. What was the reason?

"Firstly, if you were dead you would serve no purpose to me, and no you are not a mudblood" he said taking her face his hands and inspecting her. Hermione raised her eyebrows, what the hell was he on about now?

"No?" she asked with another smirk pulling her face out of his hands.

"No. You were adopted from a wizarding hospital when your mother died in childbirth. Your aunt on your foster-mother's side is a witch and suggested the adoption to your foster-mother, for your aunt knew your real mother" he explained composedly.

"Stop calling her my foster mother, and I don't have an aunt on my _mothers _side" Hermione said callously. Why was he trying to confuse her?

"Yes you do, I found it all in your parent files…" he said continuing to poke and prod her.

"You went through my parents things?" Hermione asked in outrage turning on him; forgetting about the actual situation on hand. Draco stepped back and considered her, fear flickering through his eyes for a mere second.

"Yes, when I bought you I bought all of your property, so your lovely mansion in Ipswich and the cute little home in Thetford, plus the new home in Australia. All part of your dowry Granger, and now all mine" he explained, "So I have every right to be going through those things. I did not expect your _parents_ to have been so wealthy. And imagine to my surprise when I found adoption papers in one of your _parents_ cabinets. It seems you are as pure of blood as can be" he grinned wickedly.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. How…how could she have never been told? Why didn't her parents tell her… yes Hermione knew she was adopted. She had found out when she turned eleven before she left for Hogwarts. But her parents had told her that her mother had died in childbirth…

She had. She did die in childbirth...Malfoy was not lying about that. Her parents simply neglected to tell her that her birth mother was a witch. They simply neglected to tell her that she had a blood aunt who was a witch. So was her mother a squib, or was her aunt a muggleborn?

"What, rather be a mudblood?" Draco asked her. The look on her face was priceless. He could hardly have believed the papers himself, so he had them checked by the ministry. And it was all true. Both of her original parents had been wizards. It was perfect, made everything simpler.

"Yes, I would rather be a mudblood if it would mean one less thing in common with you" Hermione spat angrily, still not over her initial shock.

Draco ignored her and instead he focused his eyes on the guard who was on the ground observing them both keenly with his two fingers pinching his bleeding nose.

"What? Finding something of interest in our conversation?" Draco clashed with the guard.

"Just thinkin' 'bout ya offer Mr. Malfoy. Now that the girl's here pureblood, and Potty's friend, she gunner go for mo money than ya' offered. And I'm sure Mr. Potter would not object to me giving her to someone who was willin' ta offer more to da cause" The guard said with a sleazy smile.

"In fact, I'm very sure Harry would object to that. For some reason he chose this idiot here for me and as much as it would please me, I don't think he'll change his mind" Hermione stated plainly to guard.

Malfoy regarded the guard as though he were no more than a speck on his shoe. "I'll up my offer" he drawled "Even though I'm sure Potter is not worried about the amount money spent on Granger, he had a different price". Hermione was wondering just how large his original offer was.

"2 000 000 gallons" the guard said thickly through the blood pouring out of his nose. His beady eyes glared at Hermione and she found herself instinctively stepping behind Malfoy. Hiding from the predator.

"Almost twice as much, but fine" Malfoy said as though it was no more than a gallon being considered. He pulled out a giant purse from his pocket and dropped it on the floor by the guard. "Come Granger" he said reaching behind him and grabbing her elbow. Pulling her away from the guard who was still regarding her as though she were a piece of meat.

"You always carry two million gallons on your person?" Hermione asked quietly.

Draco ignored her and continued to drag her along. They walked up the stairs and through a dingy hallway before going through the only door in the whole establishment. If it was even to be called an establishment.

"Ugh!" Hermione disclaimed in revulsion as she was thrown outside by Malfoy. She looked at the dirty small building, a broken down fishery. That was where the smell came from, and all of the salt crystallizing on the walls.

"Come Granger" Malfoy drawled extending a gloved hand to her. Hermione watched him warily, she considered running. And then she considered how quickly he could take her down with his wand so she took his hand. Maybe later she would have a chance for escape.

And yet Hermione realized there was no point. The world was populated by deatheaters now. She had nowhere to go, the Weasley's were dead. Her parents were gone…she would have nowhere to run even if she had wanted to. She felt a compression surround her and in an instant she was hit with cold wind and sleet.

"Holy shit" she gasped shivering. Hermione turned and saw Malfoy was already headed to his mansion. His long legs had almost already carried him to the doors.

"Perhaps if you follow me, you can avoid pneumonia" he drawled loudly, his voice barely carrying over the hail.

Hermione followed him reluctantly to the mansion where she had lived some of her worst nightmares. Hermione stepped awkwardly through the door and then remained on the doorstep, dripping wet, unsure of where Malfoy had gone. What was she supposed to do?

Suddenly an elf appeared in front of her. "With me miss" the elf squeaked walking ahead. Hermione cast a last glance for Malfoy and the followed the small elf in the green towel. "My name is Paisley and I will be your servant" the elf explained jumping up the stairs.

"I don't like that word. Couldn't you be my…friend?" Hermione asked softly treading up the stairs. If she was going to be here she would not mistreat elves, SPEW was still strong with her. And she knew it would annoy Malfoy, besides Harry never told her she had to be nice to the bastard.

"No, master would not allow that" the elf squeaked in a scared voice.

"But master wouldn't have to know, it would just be between you and me. And I won't tell him" Hermione promised now following the elf down a long hall.

Paisley turned to look at Hermione skeptically but said nothing in reply. "This is Missus room" the seemingly male elf opened a door to reveal what was basically a luxurious suite. Hermione wrinkled her nose in repugnance. "Does Missus not approve?" Paisley asked worriedly, clearly afraid punishment might be ordered.

"Have you nothing plainer, or perhaps…red?" Hermione asked eyeing the green taffeta curtains and the silk bedspread.

"No, master specifically said that this was to be your room, and the colours cannot be changed" Paisley replied coolly, almost as if it was a rehearsed answer. Almost as though Paisley…or Malfoy expected Hermione to ask about the colours.

"But of course" Hermione sighed stepping into the lavish room. Malfoy was smart; he was going to torture her with ostensible generosity. Or perhaps this was Harry's doing, and this was what Malfoy had to promise Harry in return for Hermione. Of course Harry would want her to be treated well. At least physically. But Hermione doubted that Malfoy would stop saying cruel things. She doubted that it would be much better here that it was in the small cage she had become used to.

"Master says you are to bathe, then dress, and he will come for you at eight for supper" Paisley said with a sweeping bow. "If you should need me missus, please ring the bell" then Paisley pointed to the long rope by her bedside.

"Of course" Hermione sighed looking around. Paisley excused himself and shut the door. Hermione pursed her lips and decided that perhaps a bath would be in order. She felt filthy, for two weeks she had not received any kind of bathing. There were layer of grime on her that would take hours to remove. Hermione glanced to the clock and saw she had two hours. That should have been enough for cleaning. But all Hermione wanted to do at the moment was drop down in that bed and think. Think about how she had been lied to so many times, and consider how her life might have been had she known she was a pureblood...

Hermione entered the huge bathroom and sighed wearily. She had left her shock at the door. She knew she would be coming into the lap of sumptuousness when Harry told her she was to play Malfoy's toy. Hermione would expect no less from Malfoy than the best money could buy. And regardless of Malfoy being a horrible deatheater, Hermione knew from experience that Malfoy did treat women better than his father. That was not to say he treated them correctly, or fairly, but he treated them better than most deatheaters did. So even if Hermione was to be forced to do things by his command, at least she could sleep in silk sheets at night. She snorted at the thought.

She walked over to the large tub and turned on the taps, letting it fill. While it did so she continued to wander. She looked over the large bookcase in her small sitting area. At least Malfoy had been nice enough to give her something to read. She looked out her window and out to the large gardens sweeping a never-ending expanse of land. The torrential rain was blowing trees and flowers all around.

Hermione looked at the clothing available. It was not as bad as she expected. There were skirts and slacks and even shorts and jeans available for her. Hermione was sure it was August by now, it had been July when…

Hermione turned away from the clothing and walked back to the bathroom to shut off the water. The bath was full and the water hot. Hermione stripped her soiled robes and stepped into the sweltering water. She grabbed the bar of soap on the tub edge and began to scrub. A half hour later the water was grimy and Hermione had to empty the tub and refill it. She then washed again, washing her hair too. This time the water was considerably cleaner.

Hermione still felt disgusting but at least she would look clean. She got out of the tub and dried off. Hermione found a rich supply of lotions and toners and perfumes, colours of the rainbow in makeup and many hair ornaments in the many drawers by the sink. She settled for a tad bit of perfume.

She still felt dirty. Hermione felt as though she should have fought more, bit and scraped Malfoy. Tried to prevent this from happening to her; but she was resigned. It was a disgusting notion, but true nonetheless. She just didn't have the fight in her; she wondered what her parents would say about that. Hermione shook the thoughts from her mind.

Hermione frowned at herself in the mirror. She was much thinner than she had ever been before in her life. It did not suit her well; to say the least. Hermione peeled her eyes from the mirror and went to her wardrobe.

This would have to work, Hermione just had to suck it up and play her part. If she kept reminding herself that it was not real and that it would not last, like Harry told her, maybe things would be okay. Hermione pulled out a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. She had no choice but to follow along for now, refusing would only create grief for Harry and pain for her.

* * *

"Granger I am entering, if I should see you naked you are entitled to scream" Draco snickered through the door as he placed his hand on the knob. When he opened the door he was slightly disappointed to see that she was sitting cross legged on the bed, reading a book in her lap. Apparently waiting for him to arrive.

Granger looked better, more like a human now. Her hair was clean and fell softly over her shoulder. Her skin was scrubbed fresh and he could see just how pale she really was. The cloths seemed to fit well…She was watching him with raised brows. "Well come on then" he said simply.

Hermione stood and followed him out; she closed the door behind her. "Nice to see you managed to scrub off that mud" Draco said with a condescending smile.

"Yes, I scrubbed it off with my birth certificate" Hermione said coldly.

Draco frowned but did not reply. Instead he continued to the dining room, he could hear the click of her heels and he knew she was following him.

"Yes well, I thought the news of your purity might make you feel better" he replied sarcastically as they entered the dining room.

"No, all you've done is strip me of the title I once held. _Hermione Granger, last mudblood on the face of the planet!_" she said angrily taking her seat next to him; not allowing him to draw out her chair. She was unsure of whether she had meant to sound serious or not. It had come off sounding serious. She regretted saying it immediately.

Draco stepped back from her chair angrily. He was going to be gentlemanly, but it seemed that it would be pointless with Granger "That _word_ is not tolerated in this household" Draco said coldly as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Hermione stared at him in mock bewilderment. "Well, why is that? Is it not tolerated or is it no long applicable seeing as all of the _mudbloods_ have been slaughtered" Hermione replied bitterly.

"No. I simply dislike it" he replied shortly.

"Did you find an alternative? It did use to be your choice word for me" Hermione muttered placing her napkin carefully in her lap.

"Listen Granger, I did not buy you to gag you. So shut your mouth or I'll make you" Malfoy growled leaning towards her. He could feel the vein in his neck throb painfully.

"You couldn't shut me up no matter how you tried and we both know it. Besides, that would kill the whole 'just be Ganger' thing. Now wouldn't it?" Hermione smirked rivaling his own.

She was so damn infuriating. Draco was trying to remind himself why he had even wanted her in the first place. Then he remembered the circumstances.

Hermione then went silent and clasped her hands in her lap.

"What is that it?" Draco asked with a sneer, actually surprised by her sudden silence.

"I have nothing more to say to you" Hermione said plainly.

"Maybe I have something to say to you" Draco replied with a small smirk.

Hermione turned to him and inclined her head. She was waiting.

Draco turned away from her and clapped his hands; for he truly had nothing to say. The dishes were suddenly brought out from the kitchen and placed in front of them by the elves. Draco immediately began to serve himself.

Hermione just stared at the food. She felt sick. She couldn't pretend like this. It was easy to throw all of these witty comments at Malfoy, but she felt horrible. It was all just too much for her. Hermione just wanted to sleep and think over everything that had happened.

"Are you going to eat?" Malfoy asked her with a gaping mouth.

"Shut that trap, it's impolite to talk with a full mouth" Hermione snapped forgetting herself, and for a moment thinking she was still in sixth year.

Draco's mouth shut on instinct. He hadn't meant to obey but he had anyway. He continued to eat and ignored her. Well…he tried to ignore her but he couldn't. Granger had barely placed enough food for a four year old child on her plate. She could not live off such rations.

But she had. She had for two weeks he reminded himself. He didn't dare to think they actually fed her in that dungeon. He had seen the food they served in the place, water and moldy bread. He had even received news a few times that she had attempted to starve herself. He was not surprised as to why, but he felt guilty for forcing such food upon her. Only slightly guilty though…

Hermione couldn't finish what she had put in her plate. And it had not been much. Barely enough for a bird but her stomach was churning already. She had become used to not eating for days. Hermione placed down her fork and knife and picked up her wine glass.

"Are you done?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Yeah" Hermione sighed.

"You'll have to begin eating again. You're looking thin" Draco pointed out. "I can't take a corpse around with me" he said with disdain taking a sip of his wine.

Hermione downed hers and tried to ignore whatever came from his mouth. It was not for long, Harry was working on a plan with the surviving members of the order, and she would be out soon, BRICK WALL! Hermione narrowed her eyes and turned to Malfoy. He was staring at her shamelessly.

Brick wall and perhaps another. And a dragon, and an iron maiden, and how about another brick wall. He finally looked away. Trying to get into her head! Did he honestly think she was so naïve? Hermione was well taught in occlumency. But it seemed Malfoy was a barely able legilimens. His ways were as loud as a bomb going off in her head. He would have to try harder than that. Perhaps think and poke a little quieter.

Hermione decided to turn the tables, "Why did you want me anyway?" she asked.

"Because, you were the most desirable and I wanted to have you. That way, it makes me the most important, and it makes me powerful" he said calmly.

Lies, all lies surprisingly. Hermione wasn't sure what to think. She had expected that answer to be true but she was sensing that it was a lie. Hermione could not see the truth; there was a strong barrier to that part of his mind. But nonetheless, she was unnerved by the thought of there being another reason.

Had she…did she… Draco could not tell. For a fleeting moment it felt as though Granger was picking through his thoughts. Perhaps it was just the eye contact… he had felt her though…so she was taught, seemingly much better than him. That first brick wall he had run into had seriously startled him. How on earth had she realized what he was doing? It was not going to be as easy as he thought to live with Granger.

"And because you are rich" Draco added with a sneer.

"You didn't know that until you stole all of my property" Hermione said scathingly.

"Bought. I bought it. Besides, why doesn't everyone know how bloody rich you are Granger? It could have saved you grief with your blood status. I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by servants at all of your homes" Draco said lightly.

Hermione could feel the repartee in his tone; she would not give him that satisfaction. "You are not _everyone_Malfoy. My _friends_ know, and I _didn't_ need to be saved from my blood status, it did _not_ bother me" Hermione said evenly. She kept her eyes staring straight ahead at the opposite wall, where some Malfoy or other from a past century stared back.

Draco snorted loudly. She was a card for sure. It was not his problem how she chose to flaunt her money, well…his money now actually. "Sure thing _Hermione_. Nothing bothers you at all, I believe it" Draco smiled.

She was glaring at him sceptically. Draco looked back to his plate. After all those years she could still make him quiver under her gaze. "So, why did you decide to betray the Order?" She asked coolly, as though it was for the sake of conversation.

"Because the Order was losing" Draco replied just as unperturbedly.

Hermione could not see it, he was avoiding her gaze. She could only assume he was telling the truth, it seemed like a Malfoy reason anyway. She nodded rigidly.

"Why did you stay?" he asked.

"I don't think that is deserving of an answer" Hermione whispered as her fingers clenched around her refilled wine glass dangerously.

Draco nodded. Fair enough. He knew why she stayed anyway. Self righteous Gryffindor bitch.

"How did it feel to watch Ron kill his own pregnant sister?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

Draco dropped his fork. It clattered noisily on his porcelain plate.

Had she actually asked that? Brainless bint. He did not have to answer such a question; it was not part of the deal he bought. "I suggest you shut your mouth Granger. I could make your life very unpleasant otherwise" he said threateningly. He did not expect her to sigh despairingly at his words.

"Oh please Malfoy, you truly couldn't make my life any more miserable than it already is" Hermione grumbled.

"No?" he asked curiously.

"No. What could you do? Starve me? Torture me; break every bone in my body? It's all been done" Hermione said casually.

Draco frowned at her; she seemed terribly at peace with all that had happened to her. He didn't like it, he would rather she be sobbing about it. It would make more sense than watching Granger sit calmly and talk about the pain she suffered as no more than simple bumps in the road. "You haven't really been through all that" he sneered, unable to stop himself.

"Why don't you believe it Malfoy? You witnessed most of it. You were there for every time I was attacked or tortured for information. I'm sure you were" she whispered. He could not catch the tone in her voice, but it was frightening, her composure.

"But you seem fine, despite it all. You aren't like those other sobbing women available for sale" he said with a shrug.

"I'm not fine Malfoy. I don't expect you to understand at all. I died a long time ago. I died with my parents; with my friends…I can still pull out a witty comment for any occasion. But I can't do the things I was born to do" she said softly, and then she downed her wine.

"The things you were born to do? Read and whine?" he asked skeptically leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

"You only know me as a bitch Malfoy, you know me as the droll arse that always has a comment to throw back. But you never knew the real Hermione Granger. You never knew the girl who used to joke and laugh and smile all of the time, the girl who use to love … she died" Hermione concluded straightly. She did not seem uneasy with telling him this.

"Shame" Draco said dryly.

"What does it matter though, there's no use for her anymore. What good would that Hermione Granger do in this world" Hermione laughed bitterly "Who to love, why to laugh? Such useless things"

She was positively serious about the things she was saying. It was disgusting the way she was speaking. Draco disliked it very much. He wanted Granger for angry banter and amusement. Not for despair in his already pathetic life.

"I am truly useless" Hermione sighed.

"Well, then, aren't we a pair" Draco muttered under his breath.


	3. Touch

**Chapter Three: Touch**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Potter.

* * *

"So, where is papa Malfoy?" Hermione asked as they retired to the study. She sat down on an elbow chair and suppressed her exhausted groan.

"On a job" Malfoy replied curtly. Apparently, Malfoy was not in the mood to discuss such matters with her. Stupid prude, like she actually cared anyway.

"Oh please! What is the point of hiding anything from me anymore?" Hermione asked deafeningly. She could not even hear herself anymore; perhaps she had had a bit too much alcohol "What will I do? Tell it to myself? Use my imaginary wand to send a message to my imaginary free friends from the Order? I don't know how the reception is six feet under" she laughed menacingly.

Draco scowled at her, "Well, even if I knew I still wouldn't tell you. You don't need to know everything"

"That seems to be a theme lately" Hermione mumbled acerbically.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked going to the bar to pour himself some brandy.

"You don't need to know everything" Hermione spat back, mimicking Malfoy's character right down to the nose in the air.

"Well, you need to learn some things. Tomorrow I'm having a party at which I shall parade you like my winning squash at the county fair. The rules are few and simple.

One: don't speak unless spoken too, and if you must speak, then keep it light and polite. No prying questions"

"Har!"

"Two: don't look the Dark Lord in the eye, _should_ he make an appearance that is"

"Only if he doesn't look at me, I might turn to stone"

"Three: don't look anyone in the eye actually. Keep your eyes in your lap and at your feet at all time unless you are directly spoken to. In that case aim your gaze around the chin"

"Shouldn't be a challenge"

"Four: don't think about running at Potter, he doesn't know you anymore. No point in making a fool of yourself. You are only allowed to be near him should he approach you first"

Hermione snorted at this.

"And lastly: DO NOT LEAVE MY SIDE" he said at full volume startling Hermione out of her witty banter with herself.

"Fine. Only if you stop using those lame metaphors. First I'm a poodle, now a squash…" she replied calmly. She couldn't even bring herself to respond in her usual brisk manner.

"Go to bed now" Draco said turning back to Granger. She looked positively overwhelmed already. Completely lackluster and worn; better for him though. It meant he would not have to work as hard to break her down. Her cooperation would make the whole situation better.

She stood but didn't move.

"Well?" he asked in exasperation. What could she want now?

"Do you honestly expect me to be able to find my room in this goddamn maze?" Hermione asked crossing her arms.

"PAISLEY!" Draco called loudly. The elf appeared with a crack, "Please lead Miss Granger to her quarters"

"This way Missus" Paisley said quietly as he began to edge towards the door. Hermione shot Malfoy a look of pure hatred, and then turned to follow the elf. She was knackered. All she wanted to do was fall into a _real_ bed and sleep. Hermione had not sleep in a real bed for over a year; sleeping bags, cots, and lately just the stone floor were her sleeping areas.

Paisley led her up a set of stairs and down a long hall. Hermione was trying to keep track of every turn, but she found herself becoming distracted by every single damn picture and bust along the walls. "We are here missus" Paisley said with a low bow.

"Yeah, thanks" Hermione said opening her door and closing it behind her without another look at the elf.

* * *

"Again"

"Don't look at anyone, don't speak to anyone, don't talk to Harry, don't leave your side" Hermione mumbled under her breath tiredly, this was the fifth time today.

Draco nodded pleased. She could recite the rules perfectly, but the question was should she follow them? He was worried; Granger could ruin much for him should her attitude turn. She was a smart girl, but fidgety, something was bound to go wrong. Draco could be seen as weak or god forbid _kind_should he allow Granger to do as she wished. "You will get punished if you do not comply with the rules" he said unperturbedly.

"Oh please no!" Hermione cried dramatically falling back onto her bed and placing a hand to her forehead. She honestly felt no fright about whatever _punishment_ Malfoy could dish out. He could not compare to the horrors she had already faced.

Draco bit his lip to keep his smile concealed; droll girl. He was not the punishing type, but he could not loose face in front of his peers. His smile disappeared suddenly; if Granger misbehaved, he would have to hurt her, and publically at that. Draco could only hope that she would behave courteously, otherwise she would receive the worst kind of public humiliation possible "Get dressed, I'll come for you in an hour" he said finally.

Hermione snorted, "What am I to wear?" she asked sitting up.

"The dress on your bathroom door" he said softly, shutting Hermione's door behind him with a snap and leaving her to her own devices.

Hermione took a deep breath; she was shaking violently with trepidation. Would Harry approach her tonight? What would happen if he did? Who was coming to Malfoy's dinner party, and why was he so stringent with his rules? She was actually afraid, not of Malfoy, but of his guests and the possible arrival of Malfoy Sr.

For some bizarre reason Hermione felt perfectly normal around Malfoy. He caused no quake in her step or tremble in her fingers. He was just Malfoy, and she knew him through and through. He had betrayed the Order, but she knew him far before that. Even back when there had been a possible friendship between them. Hermione could handle him.

But his father terrified her. It was only possible to see how humane Malfoy was when he was placed next to his father. Where Malfoy had not hit her once since she had arrived, even though she had not been very pleasant, Hermione was sure should his father had been around…she would be left for near dead by now. It was possible to see now why she was here. In comparison to the other deatheaters Malfoy was a gentleman. Hermione knew she was to praise Harry for his choice should she see him.

But still…things were all well now. But what of Sr.? All of the stories about Lucius' treatment of women were more than horror tales. They were pure facts, accounts; he had killed his own wife for mendaciousness towards him. He had raped and killed numerous women over stupid things. Tortured many others for various reasons; most were stupid again. Hermione had even seen herself the aftereffects of his _work_. Battered and derelict women arriving at her camp after assignments at the manor; enough images left to haunt her for life. Hermione shook the thoughts out of her head and stood to go get ready. She was Malfoy's, and the thought comforted her. At least she was not his fathers.

If there was any rule she could obey; Hermione knew that she would not leave Malfoy's side at all. If she had to, she would tie herself to him.

* * *

"Are you joking?" Draco snorted as he sat on Grangers bed.

"No, the question is 'are you joking'?" she said with disgust tugging on her dress.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

Hermione pulled down the large collar from her neck, "I'm dressed like a nun" she replied. The dress covered her completely, only her hands and face were visible. She was suffocating in the damn dress.

"Yes, so?" Draco asked rolling his eyes. What the hell did she want? Was Granger really going to complain about her damn dress?

"Can I not look like a nun" she frowned crossing her arms.

"Would you rather look like a scrubber?" Draco sighed rubbing his eyes. It was eight ten, the guests were arriving and he was arguing with Granger about something stupid.

"No, I don't want to look like a whore, I just want people to be able to recognize me as human when the look at me. Not see some alien" she whined. Draco could tell she was close to stomping her foot.

"I don't want anyone looking at you anyway, so what does it matter. Besides this isn't really about the dress, you're just trying to rile me up" Draco mumbled.

"This is very much about the dress, and I'd rather stay upstairs the whole evening than go down in this. People will be staring regardless of what I'm wearing, but wouldn't you rather have a happy Hermione?" Hermione smirked.

She was right, he knew. "Fine, wear what you like, come on then" he said waving her into the bathroom. He didn't have the energy for this. His stomach was churning in apprehension.

Hermione turned on her heel and waltzed back into the bathroom slamming the door behind her. She felt edgy and jumpy. Hermione could not understand herself why she hated the dress. She could only assume part of her wanted to be acceptable. It was vital to her survival in the damn place. Somewhere deep down she wanted to please Malfoy's _guests_.

* * *

"I hate it" he seethed as they walked down the stairs together. Side by side but careful to not touch one another.

"Why is that?" Hermione asked with a leer. She could barely even hear what Malfoy was saying, she was terrified. She had a horrible suspicion that she might die tonight. Hermione was basically walking into the lions den. She smoothed her dress down nervously. She had chosen a deep red knee length dress with gold thread. Something she considered fairly modest and refined. Red and gold simply so she could annoy Malfoy.

"It's red, and it's short" he replied rudely.

"It's not short. I've seen your _girlfriends_ wear dresses shorter than my underwear" Hermione retorted cruelly.

"Hmm right" He couldn't let her know he was actually concerned. Draco knew his associates very well, and he didn't want Granger attracting the wrong kind of attention. Because there was very little he could do about it should people take to her. Draco felt perhaps he hadn't warned her enough about what the dinner party was to be like. Granger was in for a rude awakening. He grabbed her hand in an unyielding grip.

"Loosen up a little Malfoy" Granger seethed as her fingers stretched in his clenched hold. Draco loosened his grip ever so slightly and felt her fingers relax. The walked down the rest of the stairs and stepped right to the middle of the foyer, well he had to pull her a little.

"We are going to greet the guests politely, all you have to do is smile and nod" he said from the corner of his lips. Hermione snorted angrily and looked the other way. His grip on her hand tightened yet again. She could feel her fingers going numb, stupid brute.

More people came through his door; Hermione could not recognize any of them. The man walking in at the moment she did not know and the woman's face was covered with a dark veil. Hermione could not smile for the life of her; all she could do was bite her lip.

"Everridge, pleased to see you" Malfoy said extending his hand to the man. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the woman. She couldn't see the woman's face but she could feel her fear. Hermione wanted to hold out her hand for her, to touch her, to show some understanding. But Malfoy's clasp on her fingers was still noticeable and reminded her where she was.

"Malfoy, the pleasure is all mine" the man said in a chilly tone. It sent shivers along Hermione's body and goosebumps crept up her neck into her hair. He was staring at her. She found herself stepping closer to Malfoy again. Between the two, she would take Malfoy any day. There was something familiar in the man's tone. But she had probably met him before, only he had been behind a mask.

The man was tall and seemingly thin. His eyes were terrifying; a colour Hermione could not recall ever seeing before, almost rivaling Malfoy's for coldness. A light seafoam green, they made her feel as though she was drowning in an icy saltwater tide.

"Who is the pretty lady?" the man asked in an apparently courteous tone, but it only frightened Hermione further. She did not enjoy being in such close proximity with people who had no doubt attempted to kill her before.

"Miss Hermione Granger" Draco said heatedly, he did not welcome the way Everridge was blatantly staring at Granger's _assets_. She was his, not everyone else's to ogle at. He should have kept her in the other dress.

Everridge placed his hand out towards Hermione, palm up. She didn't want to touch him, but she didn't want to get reprimanded by Malfoy. If she had to suffer listening to his nagging she would die of embarrassment. She gently placed her hand in Everrridge's. He kissed her knuckles and then dropped her hand. Hermione quickly withdrew it back to her side, his lips were freezing. She could feel Malfoy clench her fingers again, "Ow" she exhaled as she attempted to pull her hand from him.

Finally Everridge and his guest moved away only to be replaced by another couple. Hermione watched at least another twenty couples go by; she was getting tired of standing, very quickly. It was near nine and she was hungry for the first time in ages.

Draco could sense Granger's restlessness. She kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other constantly. Then she would huff, or sigh, or clear her throat in agitation. They had been standing for near an hour. He felt her fingers turn in his hand until they were intertwined with his lightly; her finger tips had just barely scraped his palm. It arose an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, it felt like an intimate gesture from her. But he knew she was merely relieving her fingers from his hold, which he could not deny, had been very firm.

And yet that didn't explain why Granger spent half the night practically hidden behind him; _that_ was due to her fear. Draco did not doubt that Granger was not afraid of him, but it was blatantly clear that she was scared stiff of every person in the dining room at the moment. "Are we almost done?" she mumbled rancorously.

"In a bit" Draco replied. Blaise sauntered through the door and Draco then knew they were done. Zabini always had to be last to every damn event. Behind him a timid girl followed. Draco heard Granger's audible gasp by him. He turned to her in confusion and saw she was staring at the girl behind Blaise.

"Ahh, Draco my friend!" Blaise grinned throwing out his hand to shake with Draco. Draco smiled back and took Blaise's hand warmly.

"How are you Zabini?" Draco grinned at his best friend.

"Well, very well, may I introduce you to my friend and perhaps you can introduce me to yours?" Blaise said with a small smirk.

Hermione stiffened and for the first time in the evening she tightened her hold on Malfoy's hand. She had never liked Zabini, she couldn't even understand why. He had been very nice to her all throughout school, but there was something terribly unsettling about him.

Draco jumped in surprised as her fingers tightened against his. He could feel Granger's hand shake in his, throttling his whole arm. Clearly she was not comfortable around Blaise. Draco could understand why, Blaise was very intimidating.

"This is Lavender Brown, I'm sure you remember her from school" Blaise said with a gentle smile pulling Lavender forward into view. She looked just Hermione remembered her, thin with long brown hair. Hermione hadn't seen Lavender in a year. She had disappeared and everyone assumed she had been killed. It seemed that her eventual fate wasn't much better.

"Hermione Granger" Draco replied shortly inclining his head towards her.

"Ahh Granger, how you have grown" Blaise said with a raised brow stepping closer to her.

She couldn't even hear Zabini, her mind was elsewhere. Hermione caught Lavender's eye apprehensively. Hermione ached to touch her. She felt Malfoy release her hand completely and she flew forward throwing her arms around Lavender. Lavender reciprocated and hugged Hermione tightly. They dared not exchange words for fear of saying something better left alone; it was possible they could get punished for such a simple gesture as a hug. They finally pulled back from one another, "Lovely to see you" Hermione whispered softly holding Lavender's hands in her own.

"Likewise" Lavender replied with a small smile. They let go of one another and stepped back to their respectable _partners_. It seemed neither man was too worried about whatever Hermione nor Lavender had shared.

"Shall we commence supper?" Draco asked taking Hermione's hand again.

"Lets" Blaise grinned wrapping an arm around Lavender's waist.

Hermione and Lavender exchanged a final glance before entering the giant dining room. It seemed much smaller now that it was full of people, not nearly as large as it had been in the morning. Hermione was worried, she hadn't seen Harry come…she had had her heart set on seeing him. But he was not here. She let herself be led to the head of the table, Malfoy sat at the head. She sat in the empty seat next to him across from Blaise. At least Voldemort wasn't around either.

"Welcome my friends" Malfoy said in a soft tone. Yelling was redundant for the moment they had entered the room everyone had become silent. "I welcome you all to my feast to celebrate yet another victory over the ministry" Hermione had no idea what he was talking about "and I suggest that we should first enjoy our meal, so later we can commence with our business, without further ado…" he clapped his hands and the house elves came in through a door behind him laden with trays of food.

Hermione looked down into her lap, she felt sick. What victory over the ministry? She had no idea what had occurred in the last two weeks, but things had surely changed. She bit her lip and wrung her hands; her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. Anxiety gripping her yet again. Was Harry really not going to come? What should she do…she couldn't just play Malfoy's pet. She needed something to look ahead to. Hermione needed Harry's reassurance again. She was so resigned to just sit here and stare at her hands…it was deafening with guilt.

She dared to look up and saw that Malfoy was filling her plate with food. She bit her tongue before her rude remark could leave her lips. Did he always serve his prisoners? He looked her straight in the eye and the resumed to fill her plate. Hermione didn't think she could possibly eat everything he had placed in front of her.

"Mate you'll make her sick" Blaise laughed from across the table.

Forgetting the rules Hermione lifted her eyes and frowned at Blaise. He was looking intently at her. He did not break the gaze; instead he continued to stare at her with a bemused look in his blue eyes. Finally Hermione looked away back to her plate; defeated.

"I will not make her sick, I'm simply trying to get her health back to where it should be" Draco retorted angrily. Who was Zabini to tell him what he would do? Even though the tone in his voice was teasing, Draco could sense the menace in Zabini's words.

"Fattening her up so you can eat her?" Blaise asked licking his lips. He then turned to Lavender and grinned, she was staring at her lap intently, the food on her plate practically untouched.

The bowl Draco was holding trembled in his hand. He wanted to smash it against Blaise's head. He wanted to hurt Blaise so very much. Zabini often forgot himself in Draco's company. Zabini often _forgot_ that Draco was Voldemort's wingman. But Draco let it slide; he often let such remarks slide for his friend who knew no better.

"Yes, that is exactly what I intend to do" he said evenly placing the bowl back down on the table. When he turned to look at Granger he found her staring back with a raised eyebrow. He could practically hear her witty remark, but it never came from her lips. He turned away from her and wished the night to be over quickly.

* * *

"Granger, leave" Draco said simply as the clock struck eleven in his large sitting room.

"Oh where master would like me to leave to?" Hermione asked with a curtsy. There was no sarcasm in her voice but she could tell that Malfoy got the mocking gist.

"Wait for me on the main stairs" he replied evenly "I need to talk with you later".

All about them the lady guests were being sent home. Whether by carriage, apparition, floo or house elf, slowly Hermione's companions were disappearing. Hermione had so desperately wanted to have a real conversation with Lavender, but it proved impossible with Malfoy and Zabini constantly hounding them.

Malfoy as though reading her mind remarked "You can see Brown later; I need you to leave _now_"

Hermione turned from him and walked out of the sitting room, it seemed that the discussion about to take place was not for her ears. She shut the door behind her and looked around; there was nowhere to sit out here. She grabbed a book she had earlier misplaced on the table by the door and went to sit on the steps.

Lavender had told her all about how she had been captured by deatheaters after she had managed to smuggle information from Greyback. Apparently Greyback had been planning to bite the Weasley's in order to use them to get to Harry. And this was supposed to occur at Ginny's wedding during the reception.

She then said she had managed to owl the information to Lupin before she had been attacked in her home. Then Lavender had been taken to Malfoy Manor…right where Hermione was…and held in the dungeons for weeks. Practically starved and tortured daily by Greyback himself. It was the worst time in her life... Hermione had almost begun crying at Lavenders account. But she had held in the tears for sake of appearance, no need to get anyone suspicious.

Lavender was originally to go to Greyback. But thankfully, and Hermione had heard true relief in her voice, she had gone to Zabini. Since then Lavender had lived with him as peacefully as she could. Lavender explained that as horrible as Blaise was, she called him by his first name, Greyback was worse. She was simply thankful that she was not a werewolf's dinner. Hermione understood completely, it was how she felt with Malfoy.

Hermione asked Lavender what she did at Zabini's. Lavender said she did whatever he asked, whether he wanted her to cook, join him for dinner, a party, in the bedroom…she did whatever she had to in order to remain alive. Hermione have winced at the thought of having to sell one's body for life. But Lavender was not as easily disturbed as Hermione.

_"__How could you just fall into bed with him?" Hermione asked with a grimace. _

_"Don't sound so condescending Hermione. It was that or being left for food to werewolves, I preferred life" Lavender said quietly as they sat on the small loveseat in the sitting room, distanced from __the murmur of __others. _

_"I know…I just can't imagine doing something like that" Hermione frowned. __She was truly trying to put herself in Lavender's predicament._

_"You've never been faced with the choice Hermione. And when you are faced with the choice, you'll be surprised just what you'll subject yourself to in order to survive__. I lived and gave too much in order to just let myself die__" Lavender said wisely "Besides, it could be worse, I remind myself of that often. Blaise does use me and leave me. He brings in other women when he tires __of__ me and he does get violent sometimes__. I won't lie and say he's an angel, that is impossible for him__. But at the end of the day, he feeds me and shelters me…and he still talks to me__ after every other woman has left, he returns to me__. He never goes to be__d__ without knowing that I'__m not angry at him. And I'll lie to soothe him. It's such a delicate situation Hermione, and it often tips over on me. I have to work hard to ensure my safety. I could have been one of those women of his, I could have been fucked and then had my throat slit. But by some divine force, I'm a kept woman"_

_"Yeah" Hermione __muttered looking into her lap_

_"I don't know how Malfoy is, but I'm sure it's the same situation with you" Lavender said__ lightly__ Hermione wished she was as wonderful an actress as Lavender was. She had so much respect for the girl before her, and for everything she had suffered too. Lavender had even been forced to watch Ron slaughter his family. _

_"No…well…I don't know. I haven't exactly spent much time with Malfoy. Barely a whole day. Still…we don't see each other unless necessary. And when we speak I feel like I'm back in fifth year. It's always silly banter…do you think Malfoy is violent?" Hermione asked worriedly. _

_"Oh" Lavender placed her hands on Hermione's knees "Hermione, they always are" _

Lavender was just about to tell Hermione something important before she was pulled away by Zabini. Then Hermione herself was shoved out of the room, and here she was now…mulling over things again.

It must have been nice for Malfoy to know she was a pureblood. How wonderful for him…Hermione still couldn't really grasp it. It felt like a piece of her identity was missing. It made all of her achievements seem much less important now. Now she was just another girl. There was nothing special about her and eventually she would fade into the background with the rest. There was also the issue of betrayal she felt. How could her parents have not told her? It was so important and they had kept it from her. Perhaps she could have saved herself years of ridicule after all. But from whom? From Malfoy and his cronies. And personally, his ridicule meant little to her…besides, had she knew she was a pureblood she wouldn't have become the person she was today.

Still…still, she wondered what it would have been like. Was her mother a powerful witch? Did she have her father's hair? What houses were her parents in and what jobs did they have? And what had happened to her father? Why was she put up for adoption after the death of her mother? So many unanswerable questions plagued her. Hermione's eyes flew up as the door opened.

Her insides crawled up into her throat as she watched Zabini exit. He looked around and caught sight of her. Hermione felt the desire to run but thought better of it. She had nothing to fear here, she could always run, or scream, or hex…no she couldn't hex him. Suddenly she was very worried again, not nearly as confident without her wand.

"Granger" Zabini said from three steps below her.

"_You_" she replied coolly. He laughed.

"How are you enjoying your stay at the manor?" he asked casually. Hermione could hear the menace in his voice.

"Very well" Hermione replied serenely. She sat rigid and poised to run, her book clenched tightly in her fingers. So much for not leaving Malfoy's side.

"Oh" he said seating himself next to her. Hermione shifted away, he shifted forward until she was right against the banister.

"Shouldn't you be in there with the others?" Hermione asked looking towards the door.

"Mhh…maybe I should…" he said offhandedly leaning towards her.

"Then what are you doing here?" she asked trying to keep her voice light and nice. But her hand was aching to smash the book into his face. Her fingers twitched for her non-existent wand. She wanted to get away from him.

"So I could have a polite conversation with you" Zabini breathed across her neck, his fingers pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

Hermione was forgetting to breath. She hated how near he was to her. It disgusted her…he scared her to death. "Well, _I'm_ not allowed to converse with you" she lied. Hermione was sure Malfoy would agree with her newly made up rule.

"Ahh, well I can think of other things we can do" he replied placing a hand on her knee.

Hermione swallowed loudly and tried to stand, Zabini pulled her roughly back down onto the steps. A painful shock ran from her bottom to her neck. "Listen back off or I'll-"

"You'll what?" he asked with a grin as his fingers slowly rose up her leg, pulling her dress along with them. His other hand gripped her arm tightly, keeping her in place.

"I'll tell Malfoy" she threatened.

"He doesn't scare me" Zabini laughed as his hand slipped under her dress and onto her thigh. Hermione was ready to throw up. His touch was sordid and he didn't seem to be worried about getting caught.

"I'd be scared of him" Hermione said suddenly with a small smile.

"Well I'm not" Zabini said as his lips moved across her neck.

"You sure?" Hermione asked with a smirk, "Because he looks pretty livid right about now"

Zabini stopped moving and then quickly jumped away from her. Hermione took this as her cue to run. She scrambled up the stairs in the few precious seconds she had.

Blaise realized that Draco was nowhere around. She had tricked him and he was fine with that. The chase was half of the excitement. He turned on his heel and ran up the stairs after Granger.

Hermione made a whole round and then went down another staircase. She found herself near the kitchens. She could hear Blaise running after her but she couldn't tell how close he was. Hermione felt sick and near tears. What a horrible man, she couldn't understand how Lavender managed to survive living with him. Was Malfoy like this too, had she just not seen it yet?

"Paisley" she whispered in terror. The elf did not appear. Hermione groaned and began to jog quietly back towards the entrance. She was glad she had learnt her way around earlier today. She turned back around and stared down the hallway. The sound of Zabini's shoes was not longer audible. He must have given up. She turned behind her to see if he was near. No… she stepped back and stepped directly into a wall. A wall?

"Oh bloody hell" she whispered.

"I'd say so" Blaise grinned in her ear. "With a wand it was not so difficult to figure out where someone is running to. I believe we began something Granger, let's finish it" he muttered turning her around.

"Let's not" Hermione replied.

"You're not in a position to decide" he smiled sweetly. Hermione felt her stomach churn. He grabbed her arms tightly and pushed her into a wall. Hermione squealed in pain. Stupid fucking Malfoy, he had left her alone.

"Don't" she said evenly, hiding her actual fright fairly well.

"Don't what?" Blaise asked as he ran his lips across her cheek. He had wanted Granger, he had bid a ridiculous amount of money on her and still he was outbid by Malfoy. Potter had flat out refused to let him have Granger. Who the hell was Potter to decide? Never the matter…friends still shared, didn't they?

Hermione had no reply to his question. Don't what? She didn't know. Don't touch, don't talk, and don't hurt? She felt his wet tongue around her ear and she could help but shudder in disgust. She wasn't this resigned. This wouldn't happen to her. "LET GO!" she screamed flailing.

He looked startled for a moment but then he smiled again, "Nah" he said gripping her even more tightly.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath and then screamed. Zabini dropped her onto the stone floor in shock but she kept screaming. "Shut up!" he yelped grabbing her arm and attempting to drag her up. Hermione just took another breath and…nothing. She opened her eyes and saw him scowling at her. He had silenced her. But the damage had been done and they both knew it. Someone must have heard.

"Bitch" Zabini said angrily. He slapped her roughly, a vibrating pain resounded through her face. Hermione couldn't help but smile through the ache. There was nothing he could do now. Nothing but run. Surprisingly he didn't, instead he slapped her again, and again. He pulled her tightly against the wall by the strap of her dress, it ripped loudly.

"Zabini, remove your fucking hands from her" Draco seethed as he stepped around the corner slowly. He had heard Granger's piercing scream and had assumed the worst. "Where have you been, did you lose your way to the washroom?" Draco asked casually. His eyes flickered over to Granger who was pressed against the wall.

"Yes, I did" Blaise said softly. He dropped Granger and wiped his hands on his pants.

"I suggest you return to the room and have someone fill you in, and then you can remove yourself from my property" Draco suggested. Blaise nodded and walked past him.

Hermione sat on the floor in disbelief, would he have actually beat her unconscious if he could have? She knew Zabini would have probably raped her…but what then…would she have been one of those other girls Lavender talked about. No…Zabini would not have dared. Malfoy would have killed him. If nothing else her death would have been a complete waste of money.

Thoroughly shaken Hermione still could not stand up; her legs had folded beneath her. She laid herself completely on the ground. The cool stone was keeping her awake and reminding her to breath. Hermione had heard the stories and she had expected that treatment from Malfoy…but she had only received a small taste of what it must have been like to be every other woman. Such a small taste of pain and humiliation left her traumatized. And thankful. If Lavender was thankful she had Zabini, Hermione should have been singing for her luck.

"Get up" Malfoy said in annoyance.

Hermione slowly rose and followed him down the hall and up the stairs silently. He was so cold, he barely cared that she had been hurt. But why should he have cared? She was his possession; she was no longer his friend like once before. But there had to be a shred of humanity still in him, there just had to be.

He opened the door to her room and Hermione stepped inside. She kicked off her shoes, pulled off her dress and sat down on her bed. Malfoy closed the door behind him, stepped over her clothing and came to sit next to her. He was gazing intently at her face, her body, analyzing the damage. "You okay?" he asked reaching with his fingers to touch her face.

Hermione nodded silently.

"Good, there's medicine in the bathroom to take care of the bruises. Get yourself patched up because tomorrow we're going to town" he said pulling his hand away and standing from her bed. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he shut it quickly and left her room in three strides.

Hermione watched the door swing shut behind him with only one question on her mind. What battle was he fighting?


	4. Before Sleep

**Chapter Four: Before Sleep**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** This is just one of those chapters that feels like such a pain to write. So I'm sorry if it sucks, because I hated writing it. It was a horrible experience to force myself to just write, but it needed to be done.

* * *

Hermione was oiling herself again in the morning. She was yellow all over, her bruises had never been shades of blue, they simply went straight to discoloration. So there were yellow splotches on her face, on her arms and legs, her chest and back. Hopefully they would fade within the hour. Before she was required to make an appearance with Malfoy in town. 

Turning around to see her back in the mirror Hermione's face contorted with disgust. There was a large blue bruise right in the middle of her back. Conveniently in an area that she could not reach. She stretched and turned, twisted and bent. But it was simply impossible to reach that single spot. This was the moment when Malfoy had chosen to walk in, without knocking.

She had not noticed his entrance; Granger was contorted ridiculously as she seemed to be attempting to reach an itch on her back.

"OH BLOODY HELL!" she yelled angrily throwing the cream down on the floor. She had smeared her bra with the foul mixture in her effort to reach a goddamn area that nobody would even see!

"Do you need a hand?" Draco asked dryly, his wit impeccable. He was quite bored with her temper tantrum.

"Har har" Hermione replied icily. She was secretly surprised with his sudden appearance in her room, but tried to not appear startled. How long had he been watching her act an idiot?

"Long enough" he muttered walking towards her, reading her mind casually. Or perhaps she was just that easy to see through? "You missed a spot" he pointed out casually.

Hermione seethed. Yes, she realized that she had missed a spot. How wonderful of him to point it out! She bit the inside of her mouth and remained silent.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, the woman was so bloody obvious. No words were necessary for the look on her face was information enough; she was gnashing her teeth at him. "Pick it up" he said pointing to the tube on the ground.

Hermione considered disobeying. But where would it get her? Just in trouble likely. So she bent down and picked up the discarded ointment. She straightened herself and stared back at Malfoy.

He was put together, as always. His hair was neatly parted to the side, not a single strand dares to fall out of place. His cloak was crisply ironed, and hands gloved. Malfoy put out his hand. Hermione slapped the tube into his palm.

"Turn around" he said tiredly.

"Why? So you can bludgeon me? Isn't that low, even for you?" she asked frostily.

"Perhaps, but if the opportunity presents itself…" he replied just as seriously.

Hermione turned reluctantly.

Draco removed his gloves and threw them on her bed. Granger was impossible, unable to even take care on herself. He felt like her maid. He placed a small amount of the clear paste on his finger and the proceeded to rub it in on the loud spot.

"Ow" Hermione said piercingly, "It_ is_ a bruise"

"I can make more of them if you don't shut your mouth" Draco promised nastily.

Hermione went quiet. She grimaced as his fingers dug into the injured area mercilessly. In a few moments it was over and he was no longer touching her. Hermione turned around to face him, she smirked "You're so tender" she said in a syrupy whimper.

Draco scowled at her, "I can be even tenderer if you like" he asked stepping even closer to her, threatening her. Hermione could feel the fabric of his cloak against her bare skin. Hell, she could feel the frustration radiating off of him.

She raised her face to his, it was pathetic how much shorter she was. "I bet you say that to all the pretty girls" Hermione replied evenly.

Draco considered her; he considered slapping her down to the ground and slapping the smug look off her face. But that would only result in more complications, and Granger had practically used the whole tube of bruise-be-gone. "Get dressed, you have five minutes" he said.

"Aye master" Hermione leered. She bowed slightly and then turned and walked into the bathroom.

Draco groaned and rubbed his eyes as the door slammed loudly, why, oh why, oh why?

* * *

Hermione was grinding her teeth as Malfoy's fingers held her arm in an unyielding clench. He pulled her through Knockturn alley. The small dingy street had not changed much, expect for the population, which had rapidly grown. Deatheaters were walking all about them and openly gawking. Hermione was doing all she could to not lunge at their throats. She felt like an animal on display, people were pointing and laughing at her. Malfoy did not seem perturbed by this. 

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked heatedly trying to relinquish his death grasp upon her.

"You do not speak in public" Draco replied coldly, walking still.

Hermione opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of his rule when from across the street she saw a girl being pushed to the ground. The child had no more than fourteen years in her, and yet she was sitting on the dingy street, crying and apologizing to her owner. Hermione stopped walking suddenly; disgust and anger filled her up to her eyes. She had a piece of mind to give the man. The poor girl was probably terrified, who knew what had happened to her? Hermione jutted her jaw and prepared herself to cross the street.

"Let it go Granger" Malfoy whispered in her ear, pulling her further down the street and away from the young girl.

"Will I let it go when I'm in that position too?" Hermione asked frostily trying to pull her arm away from him.

"Yes, if I punish you, make it easier on yourself and at least act remorseful. I'm not the punishing type, but I will not sully my reputation in front of other deatheaters. So if I have to whip you to near death in order to make you scream apologies and declarations of love, I will. Do not screw yourself over Granger by mistaking me for someone who's kind. I assure you, I am no such thing" he said turning towards her. His nose broke through her personal bubble; he was purposely invading her space. Malfoy's eyes were cold, and his face emotionless. Hermione locked eyes with him and saw that he was being honest. His sincerity was astonishing and terrifying all at once.

"Come on" he growled pulling her ahead.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked yet again, she was beginning to whine.

Before Hermione had registered anything she found herself on the dirty ground. A shooting pain ran up her spine and to her head. She blinked unsurely and looked up into Malfoy's face, he looked angry, not even a smirk on his thin lips.

"You arrogant asshole" Hermione seethed lifting herself from the ground. He pushed her before she managed to straighten herself; Hermione stumbled back a few steps and fell. She didn't know what to do. She understood that Malfoy was trying to prove a point, but Hermione wouldn't allow him even that. She stood up again and pushed him back with as much force as she could muster.

Malfoy only stepped back a step, but shock and anger were evident on his face. He shoved her in return much harder than before. This time Hermione was prepared, so she braced herself to not fall. Enough was enough; she would rather be dead than allow herself to be treated like trash. She was not that resigned just yet. There was enough vigor left in her for one more fight. Hermione raised her hand and smacked Malfoy as hard as she could right across his face. His head actually flew to the side with the force in her small hand.

There seemed to be a silent moment shared by everyone on the street. People stopped walking and were now watching the two heated people glower at one another. It was no more a humorous little struggle, now it was a struggle for supremacy. And the people on the street knew it would not end well for the girl.

Draco was trying to breathe, but his anger was closing his airway, it was shutting down his mind. He wiped the blood streaming from his nose and saw only red.

Hermione was trying to breathe, but she worried she had taken it too far. What would Malfoy do now to show his ownership?

Draco slapped her back. It was a loud resounding slap that echoed off of the brick buildings around them. It echoed on the faces of the pleased people watching. Like a sick and twisted audience clapping in support. A pride to burn in the deatheaters bellies.

Their curiosity soothed, people began to make their way to their destinations once again.

Hermione stumbled back and placed a hand to her cheek. Was that all he had? He had busted her lip and stars swam in her eyes, but nonetheless, it was weak. So weak for the great Draco Malfoy. Where was his malevolent cruelty, his calculated torture? Hermione smirked.

Draco was shaking. His whole body was trembling with rage. Granger hadn't had enough? He would make sure she received her fill. She wanted public humiliation; he was more than willing to satisfy her desire. He reached forward and grabbed her by her long curls of hair. He smiled at her yelp of pain. "You wanted to see if I was honest? Here you go Granger. I guess I'll just have to drag you back to my cave by your hair. I hope you're happy, because we have an audience" he breathed on her neck.

Hermione chuckled,"Good thing I'm such a wonderful actress". Her scalp was on fire. This was no light tug. Malfoy's fingers were scraping against her scalp as he ripped at her hair, he meant to cause damage and it was taking much resolve for Hermione to not cry. Hermione bit her bloody lip and struggled behind Malfoy as she bent awkwardly at her waist to ease the tension.

Tears clouded her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. What humiliation! What would Harry say if he heard about this? Malfoy tugged yet again and Hermione cried out louder. Lights were flashing behind her eyes as he continued to drag her along at the level of his waist.

People were watching and laughing all around them. Hermione could feel her face burn with mortification, but she remained defiant. She would rather be pulled about by her hair then to walk obediently along a deatheaters side. Resistance was the only thing Hermione owned anymore.

Malfoy threw her into a restaurant after a few minutes of painfully stumbling. He released her hair suddenly. Hermione straightened and brushed the tears from her eyes. Her head was tingling unpleasantly, and her face felt horribly loose. Her hands instinctively flew to her head as she made sure her hair had not disappeared.

"Fix that mane on your head" Draco sneered. She was crying, good.

Hermione smoothed down her hair as best she could, but as she ran her fingers through it large clumps remained in her hands. Her lip trembled at the sight of her hair not on her head but in her palms. But she said nothing.

Hermione looked about the establishment, it was tiny and secluded. Only two other people, besides servers, were present.

"Come on" Malfoy said walking past the coat room and directly into the eatery. Hermione followed him silently. Inside she was seething. Her skin was bubbling with anger. She wanted to grasp that pretty mop of hair on his head and yank it all out!

Malfoy sat in a booth. Hermione sat across from him avoiding his prying gaze.

"Are you sure you want to sit there?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I don't want to sit next to a brute like you" Hermione replied.

Draco smirked and looked around.

Hermione's eyes dropped to her hands which sat in her lap. What predicament had she gotten herself into now?

"Draco! Mate!"

Hermione's head whipped around so quickly, she felt a snap. Blaise Zabini was coming towards them. His cloak swishing about his legs, his face was unassumingly warm, but the wickedness was discretely hidden.

She knew immediately that he would sit next to her. There was still time to sit next to Malfoy, but Hermione was no longer sure which was the lesser of two evils. They were equally abhorrent. While her mind calculated what to do, Blaise Zabini had already seated himself by her. Hermione pushed herself as closely to the wall as she could.

"Miss Granger" Blaise said with a jovial smile extending his hand.

Draco was laughing under his breath. What a sight. Granger had brought the torture upon herself. He was not going to help her.

Hermione was trying to not breathe too loudly. She refused to even look at Zabini, much less give him her hand, he did not interest her.

"Looks like someone got out of the wrong bed this morning" Blaise chuckled.

Hermione flinched. She felt trapped and suddenly very lonely. Surrounded by two people who hated her, and she them, Hermione was feeling quite alone. Memories rushed back to her.

Her and Ginny laughing and running about the garden before school began. Ron giving her a promise ring in the beginning of seventh year. The four of them at Harry's and Ginny's wedding. Ron stealing their thunder by proposing to her… Her and Ginny sitting in front of a fire, and to keep themselves from fretting about the boys, they read baby books and picked names. If it was a boy, Hermione got to name him Bailey Reese. If it was a girl, Ginny would name her Penelope Anne. If she had twins…well neither girl was prepared for that prospect. How they laughed together. Would the baby have red hair, Harry's flying skills, the twin's trickery?

And where was Ginny now? She and her unborn baby were probably lying in a ditch somewhere, decomposing…

"Granger?"

Hermione looked up and broke her reverie.

"I ordered for you" Malfoy said. No, he more than said it. It was a very concrete statement; he was teasing her, daring her to argue. Well, she didn't feel like it.

Hermione just sighed and looked away from him again. "What's wrong luv'?" Zabini asked, leaning dangerously close to her. Hermione could smell him. Bile rose in her throat, tears clouded her eyes.

"I don't know that I have time to answer that" Hermione replied, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. She had nowhere to go and his close proximity was causing her to overheat with fear.

"I'm willing to listen" he breathed along her neck. His fingers followed his lips as he slowly traced the line of her neck.

"Will you be raping me at the same time?" Hermione spat angrily pulling her head from his touch.

"Only if you want" he promised. His hand was on her knee and slowly climbing. Hermione looked pointedly at Malfoy. He ignored her completely and took a drink from his glass of wine. So she was alone with her _problem_? Wasn't Zabini Malfoy's friend? Why weren't they talking to one another?

"Don't get fresh with me Zabini" Hermione said picking his hand up off her thigh and depositing it on the table "I'm not that kind of girl"

"Ha…I'm sure you've fucked Draco a million times in your three days here. He's good, no? That's what all his ex's tell me" he laughed with a wink directed at his friend.

Hermione snorted, "Well, I must be asleep when we're fucking, so it can't be very good, for I don't remember doing anything. Do you remember fucking me _Draco_?"

"You haven't broken in Granger?" Blaise asked Draco with a dangerous smile, "I could do it for you if you want?" he suggested.

Did he simply forget that Hermione was present? She hated being discussed so openly. What was worse, being hurt or ignored?

Draco's eyes rose unemotionally from the table, "No thank you" he replied simply. "Besides, I agreed to have lunch with you under the presumption you were interested in conversing with me, not molesting my company" Draco said.

Blaise shrugged, "You don't mind mate. Besides, I won't seriously hurt her. But what's the point of keeping Hermione if you're not going to have some fun at the time?" he asked shifting his hand under the table and placing it back on her leg.

"What fun I have, and what I do with _Hermione_ in my own home is none of your concern" Draco sneered, "I own her, so it is my business. And I would please ask you to remove your hand from her leg, you are sullying her" he said callously.

"Mate! I'm just joking" Zabini said, but Hermione could see the fear on his face. And indeed his hand disappeared from her leg. It seemed even Zabini would only go so far with Malfoy. There was a fear point none dared to tread. Hermione wondered if perhaps she had already crossed it.

* * *

Hermione gently ran her fingers through her hair as she sat down on the chaise in Malfoy's study. More hair caught in her fingers. He had ripped more than a little hair from her scalp. She sniffled softly as the locks fell into her lap. Her head throbbed. 

Malfoy strode into the study and stood before her.

Hermione didn't even bother to look at him.

"Look at me" he said.

"No" Hermione replied.

Draco sighed. She was being difficult "Must I punish you yet again?"

"Go ahead. Rip out all of my hair if it pleases you. But I'm not your toy Malfoy. Hurt me all you want, but you should know that pain does not deter me" Hermione answered truthfully.

"No, I suppose it wouldn't" he replied sitting down next to her with a sigh "Does your head hurt?" he asked casually.

Hermione snorted loudly, she picked up the dead hair from her lap and dropped it on his pristine black robes. She expected him to yell, to hit her, but he did neither.

"Oh" Draco said simply. He had not wanted to be _so_ cruel. But how else could he make her understand? He realized that ripping her hair from her head was not the best approach. And if she had a noticeable bald spot now, only he was to blame.

He turned towards her. Hermione stiffened and kept her face turned away from him. Her body reeked of her fear. "Come here" he said gently turning her to face him by her chin. Hermione felt nervous and scared by his touch and sudden calmness. Malfoy was insane.

His fingers splayed on her temples; the touch frightened Hermione. It was soft and kind, a lover's touch, and it sent ripples to her stomach. Gently he ran his fingers through her hair. Hermione winced with pain. She raised her eyes to his, surprisingly he was staring right back. Those limpid grey pools were hiding something important from her.

Her hair was soft and smooth, nicer than he remembered it to be. Even though Draco was sure it had not changed in the least. He could see her angry red scalp as he smoothed her locks down. "I apologize for dragging you by your hair" he said evenly.

"Not for slapping me?" Hermione asked curiously.

No, he was not sorry he slapped her. Her cheek was still red and angry, her lip painted with dry blood, but he was not sorry for hitting her. "No, you deserved to be slapped" Draco answered honestly.

"As did you" Hermione replied.

Draco's fingers dropped at the top of her breasts as they came to the end of her hair. He placed his hands back in his lap awkwardly; he should not have been touching her. "Granger, I didn't buy you to harm you, or to berate you. I bought you for normalcy in my life. I bought you to have someone dependable. I know you hate me, and I'm sure you will forever, but all I want is to have something dependable, even if it is your bickering" he explained sadly.

"Not to fuck me? To torture me?" Hermione asked with a wry smile.

"No, there are others for that" he said seriously.

"All you want is to depend on me?" Hermione asked.

"I want someone to genuinely like me. But I realize that I'm asking for far too much. But you remind me of simpler days with your backbiting and ever expansive knowledge; you're my last attachment to what's human"

"Human?"

"You don't understand my life Granger, you never could. But you are with me for more than one reason, and for so much more that Potter will ever let on. So if you could…" his voice faded suddenly. He blinked once, his gray eyes focused and sharpened like a lens. He looked away from Hermione crossly, as though he was scolding himself. What was wrong with him? Hermione watched him stand slowly. "The heart to heart was simply charming Granger, thank you" he said unemotionally. Then he walked out of the study.

Hermione sighed and ran her fingers down the ends of her hair, following the trail his own fingers had taken moments before and wondering just how much _human_ Malfoy possessed. Was it enough for him to get what he looked for from her? Hermione didn't know, she really didn't. Her hands fell to her lap.

* * *

After her bath Hermione found herself sitting on the chair by the window. Relentless rain poured over the grounds, August cold and cruel. The soft pattering of rain calmed her bones and settled into her brain, a pattern to recall. The panes of the window fogged, and the droplets near froze. But all Hermione wanted to do was to run out into that rain and laugh. 

"Come in" Hermione said. Malfoy was outside her door, she could see his shape in the foeglass by her chair, and she could hear his loud thoughts in her head.

The door opened and closed. "I was wondering if perhaps you would come to dinner?" he asked, or rather, attempted to ask. But it was a demand through and through.

"I don't feel like it. I want to sit here" Hermione replied.

"What's so interesting about where you are?" Draco asked as he walked over to Granger. He sat himself in the chair next to hers and shared her gaze.

"I'm looking at the rain" Hermione answered.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. To that Hermione did not reply. All she wanted was for him to leave, so that she could contemplate in peace. Her mind rattled with questions. Who was her real mother? And who had been her father? Why had her parents never told her, who was her magical aunt? What was Harry doing? Had Ron abandoned her? Hermione twisted the small white gold band that was on her ring finger. A small tastefully ruby shone back at her. She clenched the ring and thought of Ron desperately.

"Engaged?" Draco asked.

"Was" Hermione replied.

"Then why do you still wear it?" he inquired callously.

"Because, it reminds me of the times in my life when I was happy"

"I'm sorry Weasley betrayed you, it was wrong. There are two sides, but one should always remain loyal to their side. Good or bad. I never thought Weasley was the type to take the easy way out" Malfoy mused.

"You're not sorry he betrayed me at all. For your kind, it's another accomplishment" Hermione said coldly.

"I guess I shouldn't be sorry" Draco pondered. He ran a hand through his hair and fixed his eyes to the bleak sight outside. The rain continued to pelt the grounds angrily. It had been raining for two weeks. Stopping only occasionally and for only an hour or so. It had been raining since Harry Potter walked over to the other side.

"We'll eat up here" Draco said simply. He stood and walked out of the room, but left Hermione's door wide open. Meaning he would return soon. She let out a deep breath and leant back into her chair. Ron had betrayed her, not matter what way she phrased it. It was betrayal. And Harry had betrayed her just as well. He left her and Ginny for dead, not telling either of them what had happened. Nor what his plan was. And Hermione was still in the dark. Harry had not contacted her since Malfoy had brought her home.

A few minuets later Malfoy returned carrying mugs, and levitating two plates behind him. He placed the mugs on the floor and Hermione's plate softly landed in her lap. She sighed and picked up a carrot, popping it into her mouth soundlessly.

"Cocoa or tea?" Draco asked casually.

"Cocoa" Hermione replied.

Draco pointed his wand at her mug and it filled instantly.

Hermione watched him with envy, wondering where her wand was. Most likely snapped and thrown away. Her fingers ached for her wand. Hermione could still perform her share of nonverbal spells, but none that would aid her now. Mostly summoning charms and some defense spells, but it was not good enough. Hermione was still only as good as her wand. She frowned and looked back to her plate.

They ate in silence. Only the sounds of crunching and slurping joined the patter of the rain. Yes, even royal Malfoy was a slurper. It was an odd but comfortable silence. Both had much on their minds, but were too afraid to think about it alone.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll be back" Draco said quietly, placing his plate on the floor and standing to leave. Granger didn't answer him, but he expected no reply. In fact, he almost preferred her silence. It made her presence much more bearable.

Hermione placed her own plate on the floor and stood. She walked over to the window and pressed her flat hand to a small pane. It was freezing cold. Removing her hand she admired the print of her hand, her fingerprints clear and icy. Droplets of water collected around the lines of her fingers and ran down the glass from the heat. She brushed another few panes clear and looked out. The garden was a mess, plants were flying about aimlessly. The trees were free of their apples and pears, even their leaves were missing. It was sad. It was fitting.

"Granger?"

Hermione turned from the window to face Malfoy, "Yeah?" she asked.

"My father is home…he requests your presence" Malfoy said simply.

Hermione stopped breathing. She stared at Malfoy as though he was a floating dog. "What?" she asked.

"Yeah" he replied softly.

* * *

Hermione followed Malfoy down the stairs and to the small sitting room. Her heart beating in frenzy, her palms cool and clammy. She was terrified. If Draco Malfoy scared her, Lucius Malfoy's gaze was enough to cause her to drop dead. She walked into the room. 

"Miss Granger" Lucius Malfoy smiled, he stood as she entered.

Hermione's eyes ran across his frame. Still regal and ageless as ever. The man was only thirty eight and yet his stance was that of a king. Cloak crisp, and hair combed back perfectly, his lineless face looked utterly pleasant. But Hermione dared not dream.

He stepped towards her and took her hand, softly he kissed her knuckles. Hermione hid her revulsion. "Malfoy" Hermione replied.

"I hope I find you well Miss Granger" he said softly.

"Do you?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, witty as ever I see" Lucius chuckled "Draco, do serve some drinks, I would love to talk with Miss Granger a little more before I retire for the evening"

Hermione sat herself down on the loveseat. She was relieved to see Lucius Malfoy seat himself down across from her. His eyes never left her own gaze. It was like two lions circling each other.

Draco poured drinks, rum for his father, whiskey for himself and a neat scotch for Granger. He handed them their drinks and then sat next to Granger. He could see how uncomfortable she was, her back was rigid and her face unreadable.

"So…how did you acquire Miss Granger Draco?" Lucius asked casually.

Hermione stiffened even further and clenched her drink tightly in her fingers.

"I bought her, with Potter's help" Draco replied.

"Oh, how is that?" Lucius inquired.

Draco could sense that everything his father said held double meaning. He was trying to pry something out of Draco, and Draco wasn't willing to give it. "Potter allowed me to buy her, Granger was only to be given to whom Potter deemed worthy" he explained.

"Why do you suppose Potter deemed you worthy?" Lucius asked with a raised brow.

Hermione swallowed hard. She was once again being discussed as though she was not present. But she was equally curious as to why Harry deemed Malfoy worthy.

"Because in the general population of deatheaters, I happen to be unnaturally kind" Draco smiled teasingly "I suppose Potter wanted Granger to be treated well".

Lucius Malfoy did not reply, he only smirked and sipped his rum. Hermione felt as though she were imposing on something. There was a thick tension between the father and son that Hermione did not understand. Their words were laced with double meaning and taunts. It worried her. She felt at any moment they could hex each other.

"Are you enjoying your stay?" Lucius Malfoy asked her with a gentle smile. His swished the dark liquid in his glass and gazed at her coolly. Even at eye level, he still managed to look down upon her. It was unbelievable.

Hermione's eyebrows flew up her forehead, "Oh yes. Draco is simply divine. He allows me my wand; I use magic all the time. The sex is wonderful, truly animalistic. And we go to tea parties at the Order headquarters. We're planning to marry next spring" Hermione said in a straight tone.

Lucius Malfoy looked alarmed for a mere second before he chuckled dryly. "Sounds _divine_, I do hope I am invited to this wedding. For it sounds like a grand event" he replied equally as seriously. His eyes were hard and angry, but his lips were smiling. It was a disturbing face Hermione could not have fathomed to exist.

"Invited? You? I should think not" Hermione replied haughtily.

* * *

"Well, I do hope you are pleased. You do realize my father lives here" Draco fumed as he followed Granger into her room. His father's fingers had been twitching for his cane. Granger had escaped a disaster by a scrape. 

"Whatever" she sighed tiredly. At the moment, Hermione couldn't bring herself to care in the least. If Malfoy had cursed her out the window, it would not have shaken her in the least.

"So he doesn't frighten you?" Draco asked incredulously.

"No more than you do" Hermione replied sadly, turning towards Malfoy.

Draco's heart fell into his stomach. "I frighten you?" he asked worriedly "I though you weren't scared of me?" he added with a smirk

"I wasn't, but now…" Hermione brooded. Yes, she was scared of Malfoy too. She was scared of everyone now. Only because she had no one to trust anymore. Fear did not seem to exist when she had Ron, Harry, and Ginny behind her. Then there was only recklessness. Now all alone, fear was all she had. "Why shouldn't I be scared of you? You are a spoiled little brat, but that doesn't make you any less capable of hurting me" Hermione admitted.

"Killing you?" Malfoy asked her in confusion.

"No, you can't hurt me by killing me, but you can hurt me by killing those I love" Hermione explained as she sat down on her bed "Although, those people no longer exist. Everyone I loved is now gone". It was so sad to admit it, but there it was. The words hung in the moist air of the room, shattered by the sound of persistent rain. She really had no one. Her heart had broken when Ginny and the baby had died. Harry and Ron were blows she barely even felt.

"Potter, don't you love Potter at least?"

"I don't love Harry anymore…" Hermione confessed.

"No, what kind of _love_ was that then. It faded quickly?" Malfoy asked with a smirk.

"You couldn't fathom the idea of love Malfoy. It is more vulnerable than someone like you could imagine. It takes so much for love to grown, but so little for it to die" Hermione explained.

"You sound as though you talk of trust" Malfoy frowned.

"It's the same thing. To love someone is to trust them fully, to put your life in their hands. I did just that, and look where I am right now" Hermione whispered "Look where my love got me".

Draco frowned and bit his lip. He understood love. He had loved too, and lost just as much as Granger had when love had betrayed him. Her quiet admission was startling and unnerving. She spoke to him as though he was her friend. And sadly he realized that he was something of a friend to her now. As unkind of a friend as he was, he was one of the mere relations she had left in her life. "So you really no longer love Potter?" he asked.

"No, I don't love Harry" Granger smiled sadly. She turned to him with tears in her eyes and patted the spot by her on the bed. Draco sat down unsurely next to her. He could feel the warmth from her body against his. It was comforting and disturbing. It was all he could do to not touch her. He wanted to feel her.

Hermione turned to him and gazed uncertainly at him, his grey eyes mimicked the scene out of her window. His face held the emotions her brain was churning. But he was still Malfoy, and he was still unkind, and he still wished her no good. Hermione placed a gentle hand on his knee and spoke "But sometimes, before sleep, I let myself wander through fields of wheat and skies of blue, and I let myself remember, what it was to love…"

Draco relented.


	5. Dream, Baby for Me

**Chapter Five: Dream, Baby for Me**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione lay silently in her bed, her ears alert for any noise. It was near one in the morning and yet she could not will herself to sleep. Her brain churned, her heart tossed, her nerves were fried. She had a vivid image of Lucius Malfoy running into her room and cursing her within an inch of her life.

She her pulled the sheet up to her nose and tried to breathe as quietly as possible. Every creak set her veins on fire, coursing anger and pain through her body. Her room had no wards, at least none that Malfoy could not break.

While Draco was cruel, there was still humanity in him, somewhere deep down. He was too young to hate so intensely. But for Lucius, Hermione would have scoffed at the idea of humanity in him. He was a vile being and would stop at nothing to hurt her should she get in his way. Hermione pulled the sheet even further up her face until it covered her eyes. Her fingers trembled with their intense hold; her knuckles were white enough to be visible in the dark.

The rain pounded against her window. Relentless in its vindictive punishment. It drowned her in sorrow, made her crave the sun. Left her with feelings of despair, and so it continued to fall.

"Don't scream"

Hermione couldn't have if she wanted to. Her whole body tensed in an excruciating blaze and her heart jumped to her eyes. But then everything oddly cooled when she recognized the voice to be the younger Malfoy's. She felt her bed sink to her left and she slid with it.

He pulled her sheets down off her face gently, tugging just forcefully enough. "Can't sleep?" he asked. His face was hidden in the shadows and his tone controlled, Hermione was lost for understanding.

Hermione's tongue felt huge, she opened her mouth and stuttered "Nu-o".

"I brought some sleep potion" he replied pulling a vial out of his pocket, Hermione eyed it warily, it glinted in the moonlight. "I won't poison you" he said rolling his eyes in the near dark. "I simply thought you would not be able to rest knowing that my father was in the house" he explained uncorking it. Hermione's eyes ran across his frame, his hair was unruly, he must have already been in bed, or at least been prepared for bed for he was only in a flannel bottom. No, it was probably silk knowing Malfoy. His chest shone brightly in the sparse light, his skin glowed with a sickly glean in the moonlight. As pale as the moon itself.

Hermione couldn't understand how Malfoy knew her so well, despite having been friendly with him at one point. And why he had even chosen to be so considerate to her of all people? But it seemed that he was not interest in granting her an answer for he remained silent. Hermione sat up in bed and took the vial from his hand. She lifted it and glared at the contents, well if it was poison, it didn't really matter anymore. She downed the contents.

"Now, I've set up many wards about your room. Only you and I can come and go. But I suggest you stay right here until I retrieve you for breakfast, okay? Sleep well" Malfoy said softly as he stood from her bed and it creaked again.

Or perhaps it was already the potion in Hermione system that made her imagine he said it tenderly. She slipped back under the covers; a gentle touch brushed her hair from her forehead. And then disappeared as quickly as it had been. Hermione closed her weary eyes and did not open them again.

* * *

Hermione woke to more rain. The wind thrashed about outside, angrily smacking her window and spitting a howl that chilled her bones. When would it stop raining? Would the sun ever shine again? Hermione rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head.

She sourly remembered the night before. Did Malfoy's actions put her in some sort of debt? Had he only given her the potion in order to put a guilt burden upon her? What would she have to do to repay him? Hermione stepped out of bed and her feet hit the cold parquet. She sighed and headed to the bathroom to ready herself. Bitter for the day ahead.

A book in hand and a blanket covering her thin frame, Hermione snuggled into one of the large green chairs by her window and stared outside. The book in her fingers near forgotten. The grounds were grey; the rain had stopped momentarily, teasing with relief. Only to start within the hour again. It was ten in the morning already and Malfoy had not come for her.

Hermione was starving, but she dared not exit her room alone. Lucius Malfoy was somewhere out there…

What had Malfoy cared about how she felt? Had it really mattered to him that she couldn't sleep? These questions plagued Hermione mercilessly. It was gnawing at her temples, debating itself over and over. She just wanted to know.

Sure, Hermione had known Malfoy before. She might have even had something of a crush on him. But he left the Order, betrayed them all to the dark side, revealed their safe house and sent them on a constant run. He could not have simply have been doing all of this to comply with Harry's orders. And what where Harry's strict rules that everyone mentioned but avoided speaking about? For what purpose could Malfoy have really wanted her? It was clear as to what someone like Zabini wanted with her. But what could Malfoy gain from her? And it seemed unlikely that he just wanted her for show. If that was the case, last night would not have occurred.

It was something that left her uneasy and shaken. A character trait that did not suit the young Malfoy. It was so much easier to consider him as a git, a bloody bastard traitor, but when he acted so…pleasantly, it did unsettle Hermione greatly. It made her question and wonder, and Hermione did not enjoy questioning herself.

The book fell from her fingers and hit the floor with a thud, but she left it there. Barely caring at all if she had damaged it.

There was a sudden knock on her door.

Hermione said nothing. She was no so foolishly tricked. If it was Malfoy he would have simply knocked and entered. Not have waited for a reply. It seemed that Lucius was attempting to draw her out. Well, Hermione refused to leave her room. She remained sitting tightly in her chair and ignored the incessant knocking.

Finally the knocking relented and she could hear heavy footsteps leaving. She could not help but to roll her eyes. Had Lucius Malfoy gone barmy? To even dare think she would open her door to him? And why had he not attempted any spells to open the door? Did he know there were wards? Or did he not want to enter by force.

Hermione grabbed her head tightly with her fingers and groaned. There were so many questions racing through her mind. At times she even felt as though she was lucid dreaming. Things were so difficult to take in that sometimes it was all too surreal. When she closed her eyes, Hermione imagined opening them to Ginny's prod, Ron's snore, Harry's loud laugh.

She shuddered sadly. Why did she torture herself by bringing up such morbid topics?

Her door suddenly flew open.

"Ahh good, you're still here" Malfoy said in an edgy tone Hermione mistook for arrogance.

"Where else would I be?" she replied coldly, she was in no mood for his stupid antics.

"I wasn't sure if you perhaps had left, or opened the door…"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Hermione asked frostily.

"No, I would not insult your intelligence to assume you would open the door" he said evenly. Hermione could feel no sarcasm in his tone, and again, it disconcerted her deeply.

"My father has gone away on business, I though perhaps you would join me for breakfast this morning, as I will have to leave this afternoon" Draco asked composedly. His eyes remained on the small bit of her head he could see behind the tall chair.

Hermione turned around in surprise, "You're leaving?" she asked in shock.

Draco was shocked as well, she cared where he went? "Yeah, I have business to attend to" he answered vaguely.

She nodded; her lips thin enough to have disappeared completely from her face. She assumed what his _business_ was. "How long will you be gone?" Hermione asked standing, and the blanket fell from her lap to the floor.

It pooled about her feet and Draco felt an odd sensation in his chest. Congestion.

Draco swallowed loudly and looked down at his shoes, "Anywhere from a few days, to a few months" he said inaudibly. He looked back up and saw an unidentifiable look upon Granger's face. Confusion, anger, worries?

Granger would be perfectly capable of handling herself while he was gone, even if his father was around. So long as she remained in her room until he returned she would be fine. There was an attached bathroom; the elves could bring her anything she wanted. And it wasn't as though she could go outside, it was pouring. She seemed to read his mind.

"I'll be in here until you come back I suppose?" she asked.

Draco nodded, "Come, let's go to breakfast" he said opening her door.

* * *

He barely ate, but then, neither did Hermione. She felt restless, unable to connect her feelings to one another. She wanted to tell Malfoy that she didn't think it right of him to leave her alone in such unfamiliar territory. But who was she to say anything? Personally Hermione wanted to keep her hair intact for today; preferably avoid brawls that could cause pain.

So she remained quiet. Keeping her anger and disbelief deep inside of her. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his departure would leave her uneasy. He might mistake it for her missing him or something ludicrous of the sort.

Taking the spoon out of her tea, Hermione placed it in her mouth sucking on it thoughtfully. She would be okay.

"I'll have people drop in frequently to see how things are. And I assure you my father will be away more than he will be here. He is often away on business, so do not worry about running into him too often. Nonetheless it wouldn't hurt for you to remain in your room. Better safe than sorry" Draco said as he pushed away his untouched coffee. He felt off today. Possibly because of what he had done last night. That decent thing he had done.

There was no explanation for why he had done it. He had simply woken up at twenty to one and decided to check on Granger. He had seen how uncomfortable she had been around his father and he understood. Which female had not been warned against the cruelty of Lucius Malfoy? Draco did put it past his father to invade on his territory. In fact he was sure that his father was planning on it.

So he had arrived at her room with a potion to help her sleep soundly. There was a nibbling guilt in his chest about Granger. He didn't want her to suffer more that she had to. And loss of sleep was just unacceptable; she needed to be well rested if she was to survive in his home.

Personally Hermione would have felt safer if no one came to check upon her. Knowing the people Malfoy befriended, Hermione would probably come face to face with Zabini again.

"I know…I just wish-" Granger fell silent. Her sentence lost and undesired. She looked down into her cup of tea and sighed. What did she wish for? That she was elsewhere, that things were different? Everybody wished those things, including Draco himself.

That was what made them futile.

* * *

Hermione stood awkwardly next to the front door watching as Malfoy dressed to leave. She wasn't sure where she stood on the matter. Much of her was frightened to see him leave. He was leaving her to predators worse than he. And wandless, completely defenseless, Hermione had no way to protect herself. Instead she would have to shut herself up into her room for who knew how long. The fact that Lucius Malfoy would be coming and leaving did not grant her relief. Instead it worried her further to know that everything was uncertain.

She watched him pull on a black cloak, then his scarf and gloves. Hermione could feel the chilly draft from under the door. It was freezing for what was supposed to be summer. She could not remember the last time it had been so cold in England at this time of year. She leant against the wall and watched him pick up his wand, communication devices, and something that resembled a foe glass. His hair was falling into his eyes, and seemed darker than she remembered it to be before. Puberty had changed him greatly. If it was not for the hard lines about his mouth, or the disquiet etched in his eyes, Malfoy may have been a handsome man.

When Malfoy was ready her turned to her awkwardly. Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him. Had it been Harry or Ron, she would have hugged them and wished them the best of luck and a safe return. But knowing what Malfoy was leaving to do only left her feeling sick. He was still vile, still evil and her opposite. It was just the way the story worked.

"Goodbye Granger" he said formally. He appeared to be shifting on his feet, discomfort overcoming him as it had her.

Hermione just nodded and swallowed; hoping for his quick return home. She did not want to be left all alone in such a frightening place. And as pathetic as it was, Hermione considered being with Malfoy to be a sad companionship of sorts.

Like a pool of fabric upon the floor he felt oddly comfortable and uneasy with his position at the same time. His folds lay heavy upon one another, only his damask was visible. He was leaving something, but for the first time in his life, perhaps he would be returning to something. As badly as he treated it, he knew there it would remain.

His eyes gathered upon the tulip-cheeked girl before him.

Malfoy stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders roughly. Hermione was startled and unsure of what to do. He bent down and kissed her cheek briefly before letting her go. Hermione stood bemused and swaying.

His lips were the flowers on a black branch.

Malfoy cleared his throat and then opened the door, "Return to your room immediately" he said before shutting the heavy door behind him. It closed loudly, sending a cold gust of wind snapping at Hermione's feet and pulling her out of her shock. She looked around the foyer and found herself alone. Her hand went straight to her cheek. She frowned deeply. Her skin stung, her brain reeled. As quick as the kiss had been, surely it meant something. For Malfoy could have gone without such a trivial display of…what? Affection? Affection.

Hermione heeded Malfoy's advice and returned to her room immediately. Settling herself in for a long haul, and ugly encounters.

* * *

The oleander on the balcony wall slowly grew crimson in the setting light. The flowers tempted Hermione with their sweet smell, but she distanced herself from their charm, their poison reminder enough. Her mind wandered into dreadful territory.

Ron's touch, Harry's laugh, and Ginny's reassurance plagued her yet again. She would never forget them; they would never allow her rest. Their faced burned bright behind her eyelids. Happy and joyful, mocking her everlastingly. It felt as though they had all died. Hermione herself had died when the dream had faded.

That evening when she was eating her meal by the open terrace doors; allowing the sent of rain to wash her room, she heard loud footsteps coming down her hall. Fuming footsteps. Hermione set down her fork and began to listen carefully. Why was Lucius Malfoy so angry, she could practically hear his heaving breaths through the walls.

Her door almost fell over with the force presented upon it; "Miss Granger, do open the door" came Lucius Malfoy's voice. It was tense and daring. He probably would have killed her if he could. And even though Hermione should have been afraid, only hilarity overtook her, for she knew he could not enter.

Hermione scoffed and picked her fork back up. He never gave up did he? A sudden thought struck her. Just how strong were Malfoy's wards when he was away? Wards usually faded if they were not often redone, or reminded with additional spells. So the longer Malfoy was gone, the weaker the wards he placed on her quarters would become.

It was unlikely that he had placed anything other than the basics about her room. The basics worked fairly well, but wasn't Lucius supposed to be a strong dark wizard? Wouldn't he eventually be able to overcome them?

She was only frightening herself. It was pointless and only caused her increased anxiety. She was fine; there was no way that anyone could enter her quarters unless she opened the door for them. And she was not planning to do such a thing.

"Hermione"

Draco Malfoy's voice was at her door. Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Three mistakes Lucius;

One: Malfoy never called her 'Hermione'

Two: she knew he was away, why on earth would he be back so soon?

Three: If it was Malfoy, he would come in; he had no need to knock.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, placing her plate down and walking to the bathroom. Lucius Malfoy was seriously juvenile. What did he want from her? Besides to have a good romp that was. Well whatever it was, Hermione was not going to entertain his notions in the least. She would remain comfortably holed up in her room until Malfoy came back.

She filled her bath to the rim and prepared to step in when a hoot came from her bedroom. She walked back to her room and found an owl perched upon her balcony railing. Cautiously stepping outside onto the slippery stone Hermione grabbed the parchment upon the owl's legs.

Excitement overtook her as she entertained the possibility of it being from Harry. But the beautiful script writing her name told her it was not Harry at all. No it was from Malfoy. She opened it and returned to the bathroom.

_"Granger, _

_I apologize for my horrid attempt at a display of affection earlier. I simply wanted you to be assured that you would be fine. If there are any small problems there is a whistle in your left bedside table__ top drawer. Blow on it and Artemis will arrive, he will be able to send a letter to me. For other problems please refer to the house elves. Or perhaps if you would simply like to talk to me, I will be accepting those owls too. _

_Malfoy" _

Hermione scoffed and threw the letter onto the floor. She had no desire to simply _talk_ to Malfoy. And cared little for his explanation of what had occurred earlier in the day. It was his mistake, not hers to think about.

Slipping into the warm bath Hermione let the worries slip away. Who cared about such a silly little kiss? She hardly wanted to talk to him. In fact she was glad to be rid of Malfoy. She would deserve some much needed alone time now…perhaps too much alone time.

Hell, she was always alone. Had been really for years. With every person that disappeared Hermione felt more on her own. Once Ginny had been taken from them, Hermione had hit her low. Then, in her little cage, she had decided that being alone was fit to her. And it was time she became used to it.

Sometimes she would allow herself to remember Weasley dinners in sixth year. She and Fred running about, Ron arguing with Ginny. Bill would always be attempting to keep the calm while a flustered Molly gathered dishes. She had never felt alone then. Even when she had been physically on her own, it was just the knowledge that there were people around for her that left her thankful.

Now, now she knew there was no one. Where was Harry to help her? He still had not contacted her. Ron was dead to her. Members of the resistance were dead or would be soon. She knew Malfoy's mission was probably to clean up the scraps, to rid of the nuisances. In the cold world about her, Hermione found herself truly alone.

She could feel her cheek burn again. No, it actually burned. Hermione could not have been imagining it. Her hand flew to her sweltering skin. What was happening?

As quickly as it reached its climax, the pain was doused as though with cold water. Hermione shook her head and wondered if she had been imagining it. She was just tired, and a bit off. There was nothing wrong.

The water calmed her; it betrayed her into believing she was somewhere else when she closed her eyes; perhaps the ocean. The thunder began to roll again outside, the sky opened and the wind blew. Hermione's wounds tore open in synch as she closed her eyes and let the tears fall deftly into the water.

* * *

_Hermione screamed but no one could hear. Her heart was pounding; her eyes remained unfocused as she attempted to regain control of her contorting limbs. __Her head felt as though it was splitting, her skin was burning. _

_One crucio after another until they all melted away into one another leaving her weak and defeated. __Her body melted gracefully into the sheets, the pain never leaving, never ebbing away. __Just staying. Holding to her sweat drenched skin in the same sick pleasure its creator reveled in. _

_And she saw his face, though it swam before her eyes uncertainly. She knew it was him. Only he could possibly want to cause her such horrid pain. Only he would want to tear her limb from limb. __Why though? What more had Hermione done to him than any other person?_

_Ah yes…it was that. Was it not? He could not still possibly have been bitter over something so fragile, something so broken. Such a little pathetic attempt that had not even worked in their favor after all. Was that it Lucius? Had someone bested you after all? _

_He sneered, of course. And placed down his wand beside her on the wet sheets. Hermione could not have taken it, there was no movement in her limbs, and her eyes began to close. It was so close, if only her fingers would move. _

_Her body froze, completely, silently. Worn out and tired, it was no longer a choice. It was an ending…_

Hermione woke with a loud gasp, clutching her wet chest. Her shirt was soaked through, sweat and tears stung in her eyes. Such a horrid dream, but so plausible. She jumped in her bed as a bang sounded from not too far off. Then another came. Her heart never had the opportunity to calm, and was now beating so frantically that Hermione worried it would stop suddenly.

Lucius Malfoy was still mad about something and he was taking it out on the furniture. Hermione sank under her sheets, her heaving chest constricting painfully. Fear washing over her.

This was no longer amusing, not longer funny at all. He was a threat, real and live. The proof was in the smashing sounds that reached her ears. Hermione covered her head with her sheets and let out a small sob as another deafening crash echoed through the house. She heard loud cursing follow.

Through her open window the smell of oleanders fanned in. The sheet over her head let Hermione assume she was safe. No monsters could capture her if she remained in her bed under the covers.

Heart straying in a fitful fantasy, drunk on the lovely flower sent, Hermione wished her friends were at her side. Even Malfoy would have been enough.

Oh how aspiration, love, and every thought that smoldered on skin soon paled. And the only peace one could find, was in sad withered memories.


	6. Jesus Christ, That's a Pretty Face

**Chapter Six****: Jesus**** Christ****, That's a Pretty Face**

**Disclaimer:** No. Own. Potter.

* * *

Hermione's brain was ebbing.

She was bit by bit loosing her mind, forgetting herself in increments. It had been two weeks, exactly two weeks without any human contact. Even in her nice little box at least she had been around others, hell, she would have even taken the brute of a guard at the moment.

Only house elves came to her, to bring her meals, books, whatever she desired. Unfortunately they were under strict instructions to not bring her a human life force. The only being resembling a human within a two kilometer radius was Lucius Malfoy. He was always angry. Hermione could tell when he was away by the absence of swearing and crashes. He left every other day and returned for a mere night. And when he did return he was in a downright foul mood.

These nights would find Hermione with a pillow over her head cursing her own lips to oblivion. She had half a piece of mind to hex him, and then she remembered a wand was essential for that. Although, she could perform a body-bind jinx sans wand. Not that it would do much good for inflicting pain upon him. And then, if she managed, it would be sure to make her life hell. How on earth could she get away with hurting Malfoy's dad?

Hermione had barely showered in the two week span. She didn't feel the need to; after all, she never left her damn room. All she did was sit on her ass and read. She couldn't even stretch her legs by taking a walk about the manor. It was all rather painful. There was knocking on her door again.

"Go away" she groaned loudly "I'm not going to open the fucking door".

"Hermione, why not?"

Hermione sat up in her chair abruptly. Harry had replied to her crudeness, was it possible? She ran to the door and placed her hands against it gently, as though it were a ticking time bomb. "Harry?" she asked cautiously. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest with apprehension.

"Yes? Now open the damn door" came the anxious reply.

"Tell me something that only Harry Potter would know" Hermione said slowly, her heart tugging in two. She wanted the throw the door open, but she was more vigilant then that, she would not be some common fool.

"My patronus is a stag"

"Not good enough, everybody saw in fifth year, try again"

"Um…Kreacher had the locket"

"Sorry Harry, come on, something only you and I would know" Hermione sighed against the door. Perhaps she was taking it too far, but there was no way to be certain that it was Harry outside her door. And Lucius had already stooped so low as to try and trick her in this manner. Who was to say he wouldn't try again, it seemed more likely than Harry suddenly appearing at her door.

"Okay, how about this…Ginny was convinced that she had stomach poisoning and it was causing her to be bloated until her fifth month of pregnancy, when you convinced her to take a test. Even after the test came out positive, she still insisted she had eaten something rotten five months earlier. George suggested it was my semen" Harry said awkwardly. She knew it was a cruel thing to ask of him, and a nasty topic to bring up. But it was necessary.

"Slide your wand under the door now" Hermione said.

"What?" Harry asked in exasperation.

"Harry, do it, or leave" Hermione demanded.

His wand hit her feet as it came from under the door. Hermione picked it up and felt a sting run through her body as the magic flowed through her veins.

Hermione's hands slipped down to the knob. She pulled open the door sadly, Harry entered her room.

As he entered Hermione shut the door quickly and zapped him with his wand. "Ow!" Harry yelped as a yellow ray emitted from his wand. He snatched it back, "What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"I was making sure that you weren't under any concealment charm" Hermione explained. Harry watched her for a few moments. Then he cracked into a smile, remembering that this was Hermione. Smart, and too wary for her own good.

He stepped forward and grasped her tightly around her waist. Hermione allowed the embrace, even returned it, no matter how angry she was at him for keeping away. "I've missed you" he sighed into her shoulder. Hermione could feel the tension in his muscles ebb away against her.

"I've missed you too" she said despondently. Her hard exterior slipped away as she clutched to his robes for life. Her nose buried in his neck and her eyes watering. This was her best friend, the only one she had left. Hermione reveled in his touch; it had been so long since she had been able to hold him. It meant everything to her.

"Why so cautious?" Harry asked as he pulled back from her. Hermione could see the emotion in his eyes that he was so carefully attempting to conceal. Unfortunately, Harry was never too good at hiding his feelings. She decided to let it slip and ignore his blinking away of tears.

"Lucius Malfoy has been attempting to get into my room for two weeks using those principles. Pretending to be someone else, claiming the house was on fire…ridiculous things" Hermione sighed tiredly, running a hand through her hair.

"What an idiot" Harry sighed moving to sit in one of her chairs. Hermione followed him. She sat down on her bed, facing him. The enjoyed a moment of casual silence between them before Harry broke back into reality. "How are you being treated?" he asked seriously.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well as you can see, I've been in this room for two weeks. I'm dying Harry. I hate being here. I hate both Malfoy's, I hate their horrible friends…" she said edgily, her voice was wavering with anger.

"I know Hermione, but trust me when I say this is the place to be. You wouldn't be as well treated anywhere else. I trust Malfoy to give you all he cans, especially the respect you deserve" Harry said.

"He dragged me down a street by my hair" Hermione whispered lividly.

Harry winced, "Yes well, you can't expect him to be a gentle fawn. He's a deatheater Hermione. But if that's the worst, then you are lucky. Poor Lavender, I saw her a few nights ago. She could barely stand"

Hermione shuddered, "Oh no! What happened to her?" she asked fretted. What could Zabini have done to her? The poor girl who thought that she was well off, when in reality she was living one of the worst hells.

"I'm not sure, I couldn't investigate. It might have come off too…suspiciously" Harry explained, "But the question is, are you being treated well?"

Hermione snorted, "Well enough, perhaps even more" she muttered.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his green eyes crinkled with concern.

"Was fondness one of your conditions?" Hermione asked dryly.

"What has he done?" Harry asked heatedly. If he dared touch one single hair on Hermione's head in an inappropriate way…of course, not speaking literally, for that had already been done. Malfoy knew better than to force anything upon Hermione. Especially…inappropriate deeds.

"Oh nothing, besides showing a sorry excuse for affection" Hermione laughed, "He kissed my cheek before he left and told me that he would be accepting my letters should I chose to write to him, if I am lonely"

Harry did not find this as amusing as Hermione did. His lips had thinned dangerously and were curved downward. "That was not a condition" he said stonily.

"Harry, what on earth were these conditions? Zabini made reference to them; Malfoy constantly does…what's going on?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

"Nothing you need to worry about" Harry replied waving it off. Knowing that he would have to have a good talk with Malfoy upon his return.

"So…what about everything else?" Hermione asked unsurely. Her eyes flying about the room and wondering if Malfoy was spying on them in any way. It was possible, completely probable. Maybe there were house elves stationed at her door.

Harry waved his wand about the room, probably sealing it. Then he looked back to Hermione. "It's been difficult. Rounding up surviving members of the Order is proving to be near impossible. Most of them are wary of me and hide. Others simply say no and claim that they were never in the Order. Many of them believe me to actually be Voldemort's wingman so they remain at a distance. They believe it is a guise to round up the survivors and rid of them"

"Have you managed to find anyone?" Hermione asked sadly, the prospect of usurping Voldemort seemed to be fading with every doubtful word.

"Some, a good thirty are faithful and have remained. Many others I have found in various dungeons and have _disposed_ of them personally" he said rolling his eyes, "Some deatheaters are plain stupid, prisoners disappearing and they do nothing. But the problem is we don't know where to start. There is a safe house, and we're attempting to plan…but we don't know what to plan…" Harry frowned.

"You need to find the last horocrux" Hermione said simply.

"Not as easy to do as it is to say" Harry replied.

"But you're so close to Voldemort, you should be able to find this information much more quickly now. But you have to remain careful all the while. Don't ask Voldemort any loud questions, sneak quietly and try to figure out what it is…what else is there that Voldemort would consider worthy of a piece of his soul?" Hermione asked in contemplation.

"Nagini" Harry replied casually.

"So you know?" Hermione asked angrily crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I suspect. But unfortunately there's no way to be sure, and I haven't seen the damn snake in months. It's not just as though I can go and kill it. What if I'm wrong, I seriously doubt Voldemort would forgive me for massacring his favorite friend, and it would cause him to be suspicious. I need more information" Harry said in annoyance. Hermione could see that he had mulled over the possibilities many times and that he was still unable to come to any conclusion.

"Harry, bide your time. The longer the opposition remains silent, the more comfortable Voldemort will grow. He's expecting a revolt right now. Probably a rather clumsy and hurried one, but it would only prove him right and leave him with the win. You keep it quiet, work safe, and allow Voldemort to wallow in his victory. When we strike him, he will be unsuspecting" Hermione said reassuringly.

"How I've missed you" Harry said sadly, gazing fondly at her. Hermione could see many emotions running through his eyes. They both felt it. The chill that hung in the room like a deep fog, the deaths of their beloved, the loss of one of their own…

"As I you Harry, we're all we have right now. We've lost too much and survived too much to simply give up now. We have to do this, for Ginny…for the baby, for Ron" Hermione said surely.

"I know. I know…" Harry frowned "I just don't want to fail, for them".

* * *

Hermione was pacing, yet again. Harry had left and she was feeling far lonelier than she ever had before. She could still smell him, feel his skin under her fingertips, her heart ached to have him at her side. Harry was all she had left right now. Her only lifeline to reality and the possibility of a real life.

She collapsed on the floor in sobs. Her chest heaving and eyes pouring. What cruelty! To have him so near, to touch him, hug him, listen to him to only have him wrenched away from her again. Hermione feared for Harry's life, he was playing such a dangerous game, and Voldemort had him upon a string. Voldemort knew the only reason Harry was by his side was for her and Ron. And Hermione knew, should Harry openly betray Voldemort, she would be dead in a split second.

"Paisley" Hermione choked out.

The elf appeared before her with a loud crack.

"Yes Missus?"

"Is Lucius home?" Hermione asked tiredly.

"No Missus, he left this morning on business" Paisley said solemnly.

"Thank you" Hermione sniffled standing. She walked to the door and opened it.

"No Missus, you must not leave your room!" the elf squeaked grabbing his ears in sheer terror.

Hermione exited the room and shut the door behind her. She wanted to invade the library, she would rather live there than in that dreadful room. It was difficult to explain to the elves what she wanted to read, so they always brought her back plainly horrid books. Books about gardening, books about beard growing. The Malfoy's had the oddest books.

She crept about the corners cautiously, warily all the while. Her slippered feet made no noise against the stone floors, but her breath was hitched. Hermione continued silently until she saw the small unassuming door that lead to the library. Wizard libraries were always well hidden, they used to hold the families greatest secrets and most important artifacts in the old days. Hermione opened the door carefully and closed it behind her.

Nobody was in the library, so Hermione advanced. She headed straight for the back; the most interesting books were always well hidden.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the floor near the back of the library; she had dragged some cushions and pillows from the sitting area in the front to where she was now. All in all, she was rather comfortable. Her back against the wall, her book propped up against her knees. A jug of juice at her side, at the insistence of Paisley, and cookie crumbs all about. Finally she felt herself relaxing again. The claustrophobia leaving her in the wide expanse of the library.

Hermione closed another finished book. She looked down at her watch; it was almost two in the morning! Should she go to bed? What if Lucius came back tonight? Then she would surely run into him. But…he came back every two nights. So technically he should not arrive at the manor for another twenty-four hours.

Picking herself up Hermione decided to make the long trek back to her quarters. She had nothing to fear, Paisley had assured her at nine that Lucius had still not returned, so why would he return now at such an indecent hour. And on the worst assumption that he had returned, he would most likely be passed out in his room after his rage.

She left the library with a book in hand. It was almost impossibly to tell that it was after midnight inside the manor. Few of the corridors had windows, and if there were any present, they were little more than slits. So whether it was one in the afternoon, or one in the morning, it all looked the same. Making it easy to loose sense of time.

Hermione passed Lucius' chambers. There was no noise emitted from behind the door. Then she passed Draco's, her own door was little than twenty feet away. She quickened pace, now she was psyching herself out. It was cruel. She spun around. There was no one. Was she imagining things? Or did she want a confrontation so badly that she was willing one to occur. Oh if she ran into Lucius Malfoy she'd know just what to say to his vile face-

"Miss Granger"

Hermione felt as though she had been doused with cold water. She clutched the book to her chest and turned around. "Lucius" she replied evenly, hiding her fear considerably well. Her eyes raked over his frame in the dim lighting. She was sure he was doing the same.

Dressed only in a robe and slippers, he still managed to cut an impressive figure. Inside she was terrified, it was pure dread to attempt to stand so calmly before him.

"What on earth are you doing wandering about so late at night?" he asked with a smirk, his handsome face turning quite ugly.

"I could ask you the same" Hermione replied, clutching her book even tighter to her heaving chest.

"Looking for you" was his short reply. He didn't look or seem very angry; in fact he appeared positively pleasant. Hermione was suspicious.

She kept her ground. He stepped forward.

"Aren't you in the slightest worried?" he asked sweetly reaching out for her.

"About what?" Hermione scoffed taking a step back.

"Me, hurting you" he offered casually, waving his hand elegantly.

"I'd like to see you try" she bit back stepping forward again to show him she was not afraid.

Lucius grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Perhaps you should not tempt me Miss Granger. While you are my son's property technically that makes you mine as well…so it would not be invalid for me to…become acquainted with you" he teased rather lightly.

"Perhaps you should keep your distance, because my fingers are just aching to slam this book into your mouth" Hermione threatened not so lightly.

"Accio book" Lucius said lazily. The book flew towards him, but what he did not expect was Granger to come colliding along. She refused to release the book.

He fell to the floor and she on top of him finally giving up the book. It smacked the floor.

Stunned silence ensued. He had her where he wanted her, but what he did want with her? He had never really considered the scenario thus far, for he had not seen it coming this far. He was just teasing her really.

What was he going to do? He had her perfectly trapped now if he planned upon hurting her. Hermione was anxious, and slightly perplexed with his silence. Was he scheming?

He wrapped his arms around her waist in a vice-grip.

"Ouch" Hermione cried as she fell down into his chest. Her book lay forgotten to her left. She raised her head and glared defiantly, she was digging a deep grave for herself.

"I should like you to…kiss me" Lucius smirked. His eyes were cool and collected, he was dead serious, but there was still a twinkle of amusement behind the grey. Hermione was annoyed. So he didn't even really consider her a threat anymore? All she was to him was a pet to taunt.

Hermione snorted loudly. Hell would freeze over, Ron would be strong, and Hagrid would fly before she did any such thing.

Lucius scowled. How unbecoming, he retracted his statement immediately. A girl who snorted so casually was not worth his time. "Well, that was very ladylike" he snapped crudely.

"And it is very gentlemanly to attack a young girl in the middle of the night and hold her hostage in such a childish way?" Hermione asked with raised brows; her face was dangerously close to his.

Lucius' eyes narrowed instantly. He did not handle insults well, for he rarely received them. People did not dare to disrespect him in such a manner. This was interesting.

Hermione saw luminosity behind his eyes. He was now smiling, not smirking, smiling. It was the most bizarre expression she had ever seen upon his face. Fear was slowly creeping back. "Let go" she demanded pushing her hands on his chest.

"Oh no, I'm perfectly comfortable here, until you kiss me you can't leave" he grinned.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as well, "Then we'll just have to lay her until Malfoy returns home, and then we'll see what he has to say about this situation". That lasted for all of five minuets until Hermione admitted to herself how uncomfortable she really was.

There wasn't much elsewhere to look. So her eyes kept landing back upon Lucius Malfoy who looked bored. Every few seconds Hermione would mutter something along the lines of "How childish…are you seventeen...this is pathetic…"

"Jesus Christ you have a pretty face" he smiled at her.

"I didn't take you for a godly man Malfoy. It doesn't seem like you fear much" Hermione spat.

"Just kiss me Miss Granger and I'll let you go" he said indifferently, knowing fully well that he was getting on her nerves.

"I don't believe you, and I won't kiss you. You just want to be right" Hermione sneered.

"So you do" he replied.

The pros were starting to outweigh the cons in Hermione's mind. Maybe if she kissed him he would just let her go, or he would terrorize her mercilessly for giving in. And what would Malfoy say if she was to go along with it? He would not be impressed with her.

"Master!"

Lucius sat up quickly causing Hermione to sprawl backwards onto her back. An elf came running haphazardly towards them, "Master! There is an urgent call for you!" the elf said in heaving breaths.

Lucius stood quickly, completely forgetting about the Granger girl, "Where is the call?" he asked composedly

"In the drawing room!" the elf squeaked looking down at its feet.

Lucius strode away without another look at Hermione or the elf.

Hermione picked herself up quickly; she grabbed her book and ran to her room. What on earth had just happened? She dropped onto her bed in complete shock. This was not the Lucius Malfoy she heard every few nights. This man was playful; albeit rude and childish, but necessarily a brute. She was confused.

* * *

Rolling over in bed Hermione groaned loudly. There was more smashing coming through the walls. What on earth was he on about now? What had happened? She had seen him a mere two hours ago. It was four in the morning and he found the time now to make such noise? Hermione pulled a pillow over her head and hummed loudly. Still the noises didn't cease.

The sheets flew off of her bed as Hermione angrily stormed out of her room. Forgetting all common sense in her hazy anger. She knocked loudly on her door, and it was not until the door swung open that she realized just how grave her mistake was.

Lucius Malfoy was glaring furiously at her. He looked worse for wear, a split lip, bruises, and foggy eyes. Hermione could smell the alcohol on him clearly. She stepped back from the door, but it was a little too late. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his room. Hermione stumbled inside. He shut the door loudly. It seemed his caller had not been in a pleasant mood. Voldemort must have been displeased with him.

"Miss Granger, what can I do for you?" he asked casually. His voice was clear of alcohols influence, if she had not been able to smell it, she would not have known.

"Can you please stop making such noise, I can't sleep" Hermione sighed, decided honesty was the best policy at the moment.

"Oh no? Poor little mudblood can't sleep? What a shame. Some of us have greater problems than lack of sleep" he growled advancing on her. He was ready to take his anger out on her. Common sense was cowering behind his anger. All he saw was red behind his eyes. How dare he be blamed for such atrocities, it was not his doing. It was not!

Hermione stepped back into his bookshelf. He was blocking her way to the door. "Yes, well, while I appreciate your problems, perhaps breaking things and drinking is not the best solution" Hermione said wrinkling her nose. There were items strewn all about his room, and she had just spotted the empty bottle of brandy by his desk.

"What other solutions are there?" he asked standing too close to her. His hair tickled her face and his breath was like rot. His fingers slipped down her face to her chest.

"Perhaps sleep, a sobering potion, painting, some physical exercise?" Hermione suggested lamely. She was trying to distance herself, but finding it impossible. She was already jammed right against the bookcase. She really did manage to get herself stuck in the worst possible situations.

"I can think of some physical exercise I'd like to do" He grinned as he leaned down towards her. Lucius Malfoy's face buried in her hair as he continued to mumble odd things. Hermione was eyeing the door intensely, wishing it would come to her.

She squealed as he grabbed her arm and flung her onto the bed. Hermione grabbed the sheets and tried to crawl away but he grabbed her legs and held her in place as he climbed on top of her. "Come now my dear, why struggle?" he asked with a twisted smile.

Hermione was turning beneath him, attempting to free herself. "Let go, you bastard" she grimaced as his face dropped to her neck.

"No" he said curtly.

Hermione let out a groan of frustration. She could have kicked herself for being so stupid. She shuddered as she felt his lips running down her neck slowly. His hands crawled under her shirt and across her stomach. "Stop" Hermione pleaded.

Lucius merely chuckled. He had no reason to stop; he was perfectly within his right to claim her. If his son wouldn't, he would.

"Stop" Hermione repeated as he began to down her shorts. She was beginning to panic now. Seeing no possible escape left to her, tears began to stream.

"Cry, I like them that way most" Lucius mumbled as he reached for his wand.

He flicked it and Hermione found herself in only her underwear, Lucius Malfoy in his. This was not a predicament Hermione would ever have been in. It was impossible for this to happen to her, it just couldn't be. Laying there before him in a tiny nightshirt and blue knickers was her idea of the worst nightmare.

She bit her lip and contemplated, there had to be something she could do; anything…his fingers hooked under the waistband of her underwear and began to tug. Hermione shot her knee up, seeing no other option and caught him right between the legs. His face contorted and then he fell upon her. Hermione lurched in surprise as his weight dropped. She looked at him in shock; wiping her tears away. He was out cold. She could not have caused that, Hermione didn't have the strength to knock out somebody cold by knackering their bits.

He was snoring away loudly. No, it was the combination of the drinking and the pain that caught him off guard. So this was what he did every night that she suffered loss of sleep. Drank himself violent after having a bad day, smashed his room to bits, and passed out. Well, who was she to judge? She thanked her good luck and pushed him off of her. Lucius rolled right off of the bed and thumped down onto the floor. But he barely stirred; it seemed the alcohol had really hit him. Tomorrow would be no fun for him.

Hermione grabbed her clothing which appeared on the floor and ran out of the room. Tears streaming down her cheeks again she internally cursing herself. She would never leave her damn room again, for anything. But especially not for something as trivial as a book. She flushed in silent shame as she considered how her stupidity could have cost her something important.

She flew out of the door blindly, and rammed right into Draco Malfoy.

Hermione simply looked up at him before bursting into violent tears. He looked at her in shock, but it took no more than a moment for him to gather what had happened. He wrapped his arms around her gently.

Hermione could smell dirt and blood upon him, he had just returned. Still she clutched to his soiled cloak and vowed she wouldn't break his orders ever again. Relief washed over her as she collapsed to the ground, letting her clothing fall out of her hands.

Malfoy picked her up and carried her back to her room, he kicked open her door and deposited her on the bed callously. He then left her room again. Hermione just kept crying. He had hugged her and then dropped her. What was with Malfoys?

Harry would be disappointed in her; Malfoy was sure as hell pissed with her. And Hermione was mad at herself, no, even more; she hated herself for being so stupid. For becoming a silly girl who fucked up badly. She felt no better than any of the floozy's who retired to bed with Malfoy's friends. She was truly ashamed for putting herself in such a position. It had never happened before in her life, she was supposed to be the smart strong one; she was not supposed to be vulnerable.

Draco reentered her room. He was peeved. Absolutely livid. He had sobered up his father and then threatened him at wand point. He didn't know what to think. He was angry that Granger had disobeyed him, but he was even angrier with his father invading upon his territory. The idiot had passed out before he had managed to do any real damage, but it was enough to ruin Granger's stay.

Granger sat cross-legged on her bed in her underwear, crying into her hands. She had not written him once in the whole two weeks and it had worried him. Potter had been to see him today after meeting with Granger and had told him that she was restless; he had been scared she would do something rash. So Draco had quickly wrapped up his business with the intent to return home quickly and prevent any incidents. He had been too late.

He walked over to her bed and sat down. She looked up at him helplessly, "I'm so stupid, and I'm a weak idiot. Just another brainless bint" she sobbed.

Draco sighed, "What you did was stupid, there's not denying that. But you yourself are no such thing. You just had a moment where your reason lapsed" he frowned. He was not very good at comforting people, it was a skill not considered valuably in his family.

Hermione stopped crying; she hiccupped and looked at him with an odd warmness.

Draco felt uncomfortable under her gentle gaze, it was not something he expected to be directed at him. "I've missed you, believe it or not" she said with a wet laugh.

"I believe it; it's tough to be alone, without human contact for so long a time" he spoked from experience "It's expected to miss people, even someone as horrible as me" he said seriously.

"You're not horrible" Hermione admitted silently. She felt awkward, her stomach was clenching. Probably with anxiety, and with the scope of the situation at hand."What now?" she asked.

"Well, now when I leave, you'll stay where I tell you to" he said pointedly. He relented his anger when he saw tears in her eyes again, she was truly sorry for what she had done, and he was guilting her. "I'm sorry, it wasn't your entire fault" he added.

"You should go shower" Hermione said looking away.

"Wow, straight to the point" he said in mock shock.

"I just thought you might be uncomfortable, but I guess I understand if being covered in mud and blood is normal for you" she said. He couldn't see her eyes so it was difficult to understand her meaning.

He placed his hand on her knee; his eyes roamed her bare skin. He was not immune to what other men saw and felt. She was pretty, but she was lonely and upset. And Draco was not most other men. He gently squeezed her knee and stood to leave.


	7. You, Me, and the Mediterranean Sea

**Chapter Seven: You, Me and the Mediterranean Sea**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. Not yet anyway…

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning with regret.

It was the last thing on her mind when she fell into sleep, and it was the first thing to wake her in the morning. Like a bitter kiss on the cheek.

She had never been so ashamed before in her life. And not necessarily ashamed for doing what she did, but for having it end so badly. Like being sorry not for the act but for getting caught. Had she gone in there, cursed Malfoy on his ass and then returned to her own room, it would have been better. But the whole thing had flopped, and it now reflected badly on her. It made Hermione appear pathetic, weak, and incredibly foolish. It killed her to know that Malfoy was probably laughing at her idiocy.

Some sick carnal desire spawned in her to please him…

Hermione rolled onto her side and faced her window. Outside the sky was grey, yet again. She had learnt to expect nothing more, and nothing less. The rain would never cease.

* * *

"Granger, can I come in?" Draco asked knocking on her door.

"Yeah" he heard mumbled through the door. He opened the door with one hand while attempting to balance the breakfast tray on his other. Draco knew Granger must have felt horrible. For both her actions, and for what had occurred to her. And he felt guilty too, even though he knew better. But to leave a person cooped up in a room for two weeks was the worst kind of punishment to inflict. It was like capturing a wild bird and keeping it in a cage until it died. He knew Granger was having enough trouble as it was adjusting, and he wanted to help her through it. If he didn't he would have hell to pay with Potter. It would also make his life easier if she just adjusted, and if his father moved out.

Draco had told him to do just that last night. He had told his father that the estate was now his and that Lucius would have a week to find another dwelling for himself. The estate was Draco's, left to him by his mother. Few people knew that the Malfoy Manor was actually the Black Manor. In wizarding tradition, properties were passed from mother to daughter, rather than from father to son. And since Draco had never received a sister, all of his mother possessions were left to him at the time of her death. It had only been out of goodwill that he had allowed his father to remain in the manor. Lucius Malfoy had slowly begun to madden, and it was affecting Draco's status by association. His father made many mistakes now, and received frequent punishments from his 'friends'. Draco needed to get away from his father in order to build up his own name. He would not have himself reflect badly to the rest of the deatheaters. So his father was leaving.

Having dealt with that business Draco was left to reflect.

He opened her door and saw a familiar lump under the sheets. He shut the door with his foot behind him and walked over to her desk to place the food down.

"Granger, get up" he said simply, standing by her bed with his hands clasped in front of him,

"Piss off" she muttered.

Draco scowled. He grabbed the bed sheets and pulled them down. Granger was lying on her side, curled up into the tiniest ball possible. Her head was on her knees and her arms wrapped about her self. "No wallowing in self-pity, you have to get up now" Draco repeated.

"Why?" she asked unraveling her body lazily like a cat would.

"We're going to Sicily" he explained walking back to her desk to get the food he had brought.

Hermione sat up in bed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. Why on earth would they be going to Sicily? "We need to be seen together, so I thought we could go out for some _fun_" he explained setting the tray on her lap.

"Breakfast in bed?" Hermione asked looking at the tray with disdain.

"Yes, that is how one eats breakfast" he said rolling his eyes.

"You aristocrats are weird, I eat breakfast at the kitchen table" Hermione muttered flattening the sheets down on her waist.

"You've never had breakfast in bed?" Malfoy asked her incredulously as he placed the food on her lap.

Hermione sneered at him, "Am I going to be eating caviar on foie gras with escargot?" she asked looking at the covered plate before her.

"No, a French breakfast usually consists of bread, butter, jam, and tea, which is what you will be having" he said removing the lid from her food and placing it on her table. Hermione stared at her food. "I'll return in an hour, we leave promptly at ten. So please _shower__" _he said pointedly, "and dress nicely".

Hermione sneered him all the way out of the room. "Sicily?" she whispered to herself shaking her head.

* * *

Marsala to be exact. Hermione stood in her place and stared about the restaurant. It was apparently the only town in Sicily with a wizarding community. She straightened her sundress and looked at Malfoy. He was waiting patiently for her. Hermione looked up at him and frowned, he was still standing in place. "Can we move?" she asked glancing around the smoky environment. She felt uncomfortable, it was clearly a men's café. There were many cigars and scantily clad women serving drinks. And she with her bright green dress stuck out in the lush colours of red and browns.

"No, I have friends approaching" Malfoy said evenly keeping his head straight ahead. Hermione's eyes snapped up and she searched for familiar faces. Blake and Hawthorne were lumbering towards them. She hated them, they were like Crabbe and Goyle reincarnated. Hermione was surprised they had even managed to survive the war. She straightened her back and prepared a mean front. Those assholes had almost killed George Weasley by falling on him…not that it matter, George met his demise soon after…

"How are you Malfoy?" Blake asked throwing out his meaty hand.

"Well, I am well" Malfoy replied "And you Hawthorne?" he asked as he took Blake's hand.

Hawthorne just shrugged glumly. "Don't mind him" Blake muttered under his voice, "he's in a spot of trouble with the Dark Lord"

Malfoy just nodded in understanding. Hermione shifted on her feet, unsure if she felt uncomfortable in their presence, or with the fact that she was being completely unacknowledged, not even name calling.

"Who's she?" Hawthorne mumbled moodily, pointing his fat finger at Hermione. Hermione instinctively stepped behind Malfoy, and cursed herself for doing it. So much for a strong front. Malfoy turned and looked at her as though she was an insignificant speck upon his shoe. Hermione avoided his eyes and stared daringly at Hawthorne.

"My…companion" Malfoy said tersely.

Blake and Hawthorne continued to look confused, "She looks familiar" Blake stated with a squint. Hermione snorted at his comment and received a reproving look from Malfoy.

"She does doesn't she?" Draco asked with a sly smile, "I will see you gentlemen later, I have business to attend to now, if you excuse me" Draco said grabbing Hermione's wrist and dragging her out of the restaurant. Hermione didn't look back; instead she walked quickly with long strides by Malfoy's side and exited the establishment.

"Jesus Christ!" she cried as she stepped outside, her hands flew over her face.

Draco stopped feeling himself lurch back and glared at Granger. What was wrong with her? He saw her hands covering her face. But of course, she had not seen the sun in nearly a month, this bright light was sure to stun her. "You okay?" he asked rolling his eyes.

"Yeah" she replied rubbing her eyes and looking around with rapid blinks.

"Well, move then. I wouldn't want to have to rip any more pretty hairs from your head" he threatened.

Hermione grimaced crossly. What had she expected? It was Malfoy. No matter what Harry may have said to him, there was only so much control he could use. Hermione sighed and followed him.

The path was small and cobbled but lively and busy. Small kiosks lined the streets with homemade sweaters and fresh foods. Cafes and bakeries bordered the street with a small bank at the end. A boutique overshadowed most of the street; it looked like a prissy thing. Somewhere Malfoy was sure to shop. Hermione walked slowly by the kiosks looking at the foods. Malfoy seemed to be humoring her as he would stand behind her patiently, but watch her like a hawk.

"Comu Le pozzu sirviri?" the short bald man by the eggplants asked. Draco was ready to reply smartly and show up Granger but she beat him to it.

"Vogghiu sulu dar un 'occhiata" Hermione said sweetly. She turned away from the eggplants and began to walk again. Malfoy followed her with a sour frown. She was ignoring him completely and happily going about on her way. Completely unaware that she had spoken a different language.

"You know Sicilian?" he asked incredulously, "Where on earth did you learn Sicilian? I mean Italian, alright, but Sicilian?"

"Lassami in paci" Hermione said waving her hand at him agitatedly.

Draco ignored her comment, and continued his tirade "Are you trying to outshine me? Answer me! I asked where you learnt Sicilian, and where do you get off speaking it?" Draco repeated heatedly.

"A paisi unni chi vai, comu vidi fari fai" she grinned continuing to walk. Hermione didn't make it very far, five steps later she found herself lurching backwards ramming into Malfoy's chest. His arms hooked under her armpits as he held her up. He then threw her forward. "Brute!" she cried turning around to face him, "What magic is this?" she hissed under her breath, losing her friendly teasing tone.

"Nothing I have done, it's ancient magic" he shrugged pushing her away from him again and smoothing his jacket. He grimaced as though there was an unpleasant stain upon his person.

"What ancient magic?" Hermione seethed stepping closer to him yet again.

Draco shrugged. He enjoyed making her mad; it was quite funny for him as it was the only rise he could ever get out of her. "You are technically my property now, so…nobody can invade upon your person, mind, or soul. You can't walk further than two meters from me, unless it is upon my own property. And no harm will come to you because I will be warned of it" he explained shortly.

"Ooo you…" she growled stabbing his chest aggressively with her pointer finger.

"Come now Granger, let's not make ugly faces" he said as though talking to a child "We're going shopping there" he said pointing to the boutique.

"Yes, only you could enjoy shopping in a stuffy store more than enjoying the only sun for weeks" Hermione muttered crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's the only sun you've seen for weeks, but I've seen others" he replied honestly.

"Shopping is so dull, a waste of money…and vain" Hermione groaned.

"I like to live within my means" he replied grabbing her arm and dragging her to the monstrous retailer overshadowing the small booths.

"Riccu si pò diri cui campa cu lu so' aviri." Hermione smiled coldly.

Malfoy tightened his grip on her hand mercilessly until Hermione cried out in protest. "Do not take me to be vainglorious or a spendthrift Granger, I take care of how my money is spent, no matter how much I happen to earn" he said grimly.

"Or how you earn it" she fumed.

"I'll make sure you regret that comment soon enough. Now, put on a happy face, there might be people watching" he said with a twisted smile as he released her arm. There were angry finger marks upon her skin.

"Bully" she whispered under her breath as she followed him into the shadow of the store. Hermione frowned as deeply as she could and placed her fingers over her burning skin only to defy him as much as she could.

It was freezing in the store. The air-conditioning was on full blast and immediately chilled Hermione's warm skin. She wrapped her arms around her middle and followed Malfoy through the racks to the cashier.

He rang the small bell and began to tap his fingers on the counter. Hermione leant against the desk and continued to frown; she couldn't have smiled if she wanted to. Her whole mood had severely dampened. At first she thought today could have been nice, some sun, some water…things she missed, things to take her mind off the situation at hand. But she had forgotten to calculate Malfoy into that equation.

There was a moment where she considered he had maybe been warming up. Sure that kiss on her cheek as utterly pathetic, but all the same, it was a change. But perhaps that was for nothing more than show either. Just who were these people who were watching them? And why did they have to be seen? It was confusing for Hermione, and she knew that she'd probably not find out unless Harry said anything.

"Granger, come" Malfoy said pinching her side roughly.

"Ow" Hermione said pointedly stepping away from him.

She hadn't even noticed the storekeeper talking to Malfoy. Her thought was terrifyingly deep, she wondered if even a raid would have woken her. Hermione followed them glumly to the back of the store.

"Here is your compartment, I've placed your rack inside" the older woman said in perfect English but without a trace of accent. She was tall and thin with curled with hair and a heavily made up face. Her own dress was a blinding shade of pink. Hermione swallowed and turned to Malfoy. "I don't need cloths" she said simply, "There are more than enough in the closet already"

"You don't expect to wear any of them more than once?" he asked with a sneer.

Granger looked shocked. Now he understood why she thought so little of him, it was comments such as these that made her think him a narcissist and a wastrel. "I was joking Granger. You need a dress for the wonderful dinner we will be attending tonight" he explained.

"A deatheater meal?" she asked rooted to her spot.

"No, an upper-class banquet. Just because I am a deatheater does not mean that my life revolves around it. That is my job, this, is my duty. Besides, outside of England, most countries don't care about Voldemort" Draco yawned.

"Until he comes with his army, prepared to take over this very island. Don't take me for a fool Malfoy. Do not insult my intelligence please. I know what we are doing here. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But don't feel as though you need to lie to me" Granger said grimly, before she turned and walked into her dressing room.

How little she knew of the world. Draco sighed and sat down in a pink chair by a small desk covered with magazines. He picked up a Times and began to read.

"Have you put on the first one yet?" Draco asked fifteen minuets later looking down at his watch.

"I've gone through three" Hermione called back as she did up the zipper to the fourth dress.

"Well, I should like to see them" she could hear him call back angrily.

"I wasn't aware that it interested you so much" she replied opening the door and walking out "Are you going to control what I wear now too?" She asked.

"Yes" Draco said standing. He walked over to her and pursed his lips. He touched the smooth fabric of the dress and spun her around roughly. He didn't like it. It was too…open, all over the place. "You need something more covered" he said pushing her back into the dressing room.

"Whatever" Hermione muttered shutting the door behind her and ripping the dress off of herself. She didn't want to be doing this. Hermione hated shopping for herself. She loved to do it for someone else when it was a present, but this just made her feel greedy, even if she hadn't asked for it. She pushed the dresses along the rack until she came across a full sleeved knee length dress. It was the most covered thing in the room. She pulled it on tiredly and hoped it would be good enough just so they could leave.

She bounded out of the room and stopped short by the door. Her trembling fingers gripped the frame as she attempted to keep herself upright. Slowly she turned and shut the door behind her, and then she slid to the ground.

Draco's eyes flew to the door just as it began to close. She had seen.

"Pardon?" he asked turning back to Weasley.

"Preoccupied Malfoy? Who do you have in there?" Weasley asked with a smirk.

"Haven't you heard?" Draco asked incredulously. Perhaps this chance meeting would turn into a total war. Was Weasley an idiot or was he playing some sort of game with him? How could Potter have failed to say anything?

"What?" Weasley asked looking at his nails. He then looked back to the room where his own date was dressing.

"I have Granger in there right now, trying on dresses for tonight" Draco answered honestly. Still in awe of how little the weasel knew.

Weasley's eyes hot up and flashed angrily. "Hermione? She's with you?" he asked baring his teeth. Draco watched him redden but did not dare step back.

"Yes, she is mine" he replied coolly.

"Harry let her go off with you?" Weasley asked grinding his teeth.

"Well, I had to pay for her. Besides, you didn't really expect her to fall into place next to you? Why? Because you loved her once? Well it's clear you don't anymore, after everything you've done. I don't think she'd survive with you; she'd probably have attempted suicide" Malfoy said indifferently.

"And you mean to say she's happy with you?" he asked, now his whole face was flushed an irate scarlet.

"Happier than she would be with you" Draco smirked confidently.

"Ronald, can we leave?" asked a pretty caramel haired girl walking towards the two men. She had about ten dresses draped over her slim arm and she looked impatient. Weasley turned to her and nodded.

"And it seems as though you've found yourself an adequate replacement" Draco observed behind Weasley's shoulder "I'm sure Granger will be devastated" he said with in mock anguish.

"I'll see you later Malfoy" Weasley said edgily clenching his fists at his sides.

"I look forward to it" Draco smiled as he waved Weasley and his 'thing' out of the store. Then he turned to Granger's shut door and groaned. He would never be able to get her out now.

"Granger?" he sang as he knocked on the door.

"I'm not coming out just yet" she said.

"Oh come on, honestly!" he said in exasperation as he knocked again.

"Malfoy, trust me, if I come out right now, you could end up with a few broken bones" she said quietly.

And he believed her. Her breath was ragged and her words icy. But she would have to deal. Granger was sure to run into Weasley a million more times now that she was going to be in his presence. It was a fact of her miserable life, and she needed to accept it. And if she wasn't going to come out, he'd go in. Draco whipped his head around the corner to make sure that nobody was watching, and then he apparated himself into her dressing room.

Hermione heard the two cracks, within a split second of each other. And then a tall shadow covered her. She sighed and placed her head in her hands.

Draco frowned down at her. She was sitting on the small purple chair by the mirror, half dressed and looking utterly depressed. He sat down on the floor against the wall, across from her. Draco stretched his legs out until the barely touched her own toes.

Hermione sniffled. He was here to make her even more miserable. And he knew his presence alone was enough to make her feel that way. She wiped her eyes and cheeks angrily and looked up at him. Malfoy was staring back at her, looking comfortable enough against the wall.

"I know you hate him, just as much as you hate me, but you need to learn to live with it Granger. There's nothing you can do" Malfoy sighed.

She was just about to scoff, but opted to keep it in. There wasn't much she could do, but Harry was sure as hell trying.

"I don't hate you" is what she actually ended up saying.

He looked confused, and somewhat surprised. "You don't hate me?" he asked.

"Not as much as I hate Ron" Hermione sighed leaning against the wall. "I can't hate you for being you. I've always known you were the enemy. You've betrayed me, but I guess I sort of expected as much from you. But to be betrayed by someone who you lived with for years, someone who you never feared to fall asleep next to, and who you enjoyed seeing in the morning. Someone, who with open arms you took in and cared for, and you put your life in their hands…well, when they betray you, it's a little more than hate" Hermione frowned.

Malfoy nodded, was he actually listening to her?

"So basically…if you had walked out of the room…"

"Yeah, I wouldn't have hesitated to kill him with my bare hands. I would have probably dropped dead myself. Being wandless and all. But all I could feel was this complete and utter rage in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to shred his skin with my nails and to rip all of his freckles off" she said flexing her long fingers.

He chuckled appreciatively, "Granger, you're more fearful than I thought. I think I respect you a bit more" he smirked.

"I wouldn't let myself count on such a thing" Hermione replied bitterly.

"Come on, get dressed, I like that one on the floor. Grab it and lets get outside" he said standing and smoothing his wrinkled white shirt. Hermione stood as well. Malfoy opened her door and stepped out. She looked down on the floor. There were more than fifteen dressed lying about. Which one was he pointing to?

* * *

They walked down the small path again and swerved off on a small lane. "Where are we going to be staying?" Hermione asked as they walked down the sweltering street. Malfoy was making odd cuts across the lane in order to remain in the shade. Hermione followed him.

"We're going there now" he said swinging her bag around.

"Is it by the sea?" Hermione asked.

"Can you swim?" he asked.

"Yes" Hermione replied.

"Then it is"

"Alright"

They continued to make more turns until Hermione was dizzy. All of the houses were the same. Bright colours of stucco with flat roofs and fruit trees in the gardens. So she remained quiet and just followed along. Finally Malfoy stopped in front of a moderate orange house. It was pretty enough with tall tree's in the front, granting some shade to the poor yellowing grass.

The gate opened on it's own as they approached and shut swiftly after Hermione entered. In an instant the grass became greener, the wilted flowers grew and the tree's shifted to allow sunlight on the garden. Some magic that was.

Draco opened the door for Granger and allowed her entrance first. She stepped through the threshold and into a large airy living area with an open kitchen and dining area. She ran to the giant window on the opposite wall.

The bright blue sea was all that was visible from behind the glass. Hermione had to crane her neck to look down and see the sand. It was beautiful. After so much rain and dismal cold, Hermione had forgotten that summer even existed in her bland and grey world. "Wow" she whispered.

"You like it? Wait until you see the real thing. I'll take you down after we have lunch" Malfoy promised setting her bag on the kitchen counter and walking to the fridge. Hermione was still in awe; she could have stood at the window and stared at the sea until she turned to dust. If only it would keep her memory as selective as it was at the moment.

"Come on now. Let's eat. Nothing will disappear. It's just you, me, and the Mediterranean sea... for the next week" he said setting down some plates at the table.

Hermione turned around and stuck out her tongue, "That almost rhymed" she stated.

"So I'm a horrid poet" Draco shrugged as he placed down vegetables and spread. He was glad he had sent Shooty here earlier in order to clean the place and stock the fridge.

Granger turned from the fridge and smiled. A genuine smile on her lips, something Draco had not seen in many years. She looked back out the window, "It's very pretty" she sighed.

* * *

I suck at Sicilian, so these aren't 100 accurate, but you get the gist. Translation is hard...

Comu Le pozzu sirviri? – Can I help you?

Vogghiu sulu dar un 'occhiata – I'm just looking.

Lassami in paci – Leave me alone.

A paisi unni chi vai, comu vidi fari fai – When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Riccu si pò diri cui campa cu lu so' aviri. - One who lives within his means can be said to be rich.


	8. To Be Sorry

**Chapter ****Eight****: To Be Sorry**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. You should know that by now.

* * *

Draco sat on the warm sand. He sank into it slowly as he laid back, it molded to his frame perfectly. A layer of sweat had appeared on his hairline and his cheeks were red. The sun beat heavily and ravaged the small area of shade he occupied. Draco ran his fingers through his hair pulling his wet fringe backwards. 

Granger was leaping about in the water like a child. The waves were foaming about her knees and her soaking hair was plastered to her back. She looked ridiculous, and her bathing suit did not help. She had bought one in the small boutique by his home. And Draco, thinking her capable had allowed her to do it on her own while he waited by the front door.

When she exited, he hadn't seen anything. It was in the small paper box between her arm and hip. Purple, purple with green polka dots. The bottom resembled children's knickers. It was ridiculous, but he wasn't the one wearing it. He watched her continue to splash around. The droplets of water on her back were blinding him as the sun shone to the highest degree.

It was a small moment of normalcy for Draco. Nobody was even giving him a second glance, Granger looked happy and carefree. And he was finally out of his stuffy wizard robes. He enjoyed them in dreary England where they seemed to fit the mood. But here he was allowed more freedom in his dress code. Today he had opted for a pair of white shorts and a blue polo shirt. He felt like a muggle, but there was nothing wrong with that.

Sometimes Draco thought that muggles had the best lives. Completely unaware of wizard wars, their lives seemed to be full of simple pleasures such as food, vacationing, shopping; at least for the muggles in other countries. There were very few muggles left in England, if any. Many of them had been killed or had fled during the Great War. The majority of the country was now occupied by wizards, and that was fine with Voldemort. Not so fine with Draco. Without muggles, the whole place seemed so empty. There were no more than four hundred wizards left, all together.

He sighed deeply and shut his eyes to the blue sky above him. He focused on the lapping of the waves and Granger's squeals.

* * *

Hermione was a nervous wreck. She was sitting on the barstool in the kitchen tapping her fingers on the counter and humming erratically. In ten minutes she and Malfoy would be leaving to attend this big dinner party. This dinner party would most likely have Ronald attending. This terrified her on a number of levels. 

1) Ron himself was now terrifying after Hermione realized what he was capable of.

2) Ron was no longer the same person she had loved once, how should she act around him?

3) What if she went ballistic at the sight of him and did something foolish?

4) What if she had to talk to him period!?!?

Hermione did not know what to do. She couldn't possibly prepare for whatever was about to happen tonight. But she sensed that it would not be pleasant. Hermione took a shaky breath and attempted to calm her nerves. She had to be cool and collected about this. Malfoy was right, she would have to see him eventually, and the time was bound to come. She would just have to come and accept things the way they were. Ignoring the world as it was would only get her in trouble.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing her heart to calm itself.

"Ready Granger?" Malfoy asked coming down the stairs.

"Yeah" Hermione whispered as she stood from the stool and smoothed her dress. She smiled weakly. He looked very nice. A glossy grey dress shirt and pressed black slacks, he was tying his tie as he walked towards her.

He stood right before her and watched her curiously. Hermione looked away from his gaze. She couldn't handle his stare. She felt as though he was looking straight through her. Occlumency… but it wasn't really just that. There was this horrible feeling that told her she wasn't her own. He knew her, and Malfoy knew her well. It was unavoidable. She had gone to school with him and she had worked against Voldemort with him.

Then he had just disappeared, never to be heard from again until Harry told her where she would be going. Hermione had assumed he had decided to betray them, but she had also thought him dead. It had seemed unlikely that he would have survived betraying both sides; it made him untrustworthy to everyone.

"Granger?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes rose to his shirt. She touched the fabric delicately with her fingers. It was cool and soft, "You look nice" she said bluntly.

"So do you. Come on, we have to leave" he said stepping away. Hermione nodded and woke herself up from her daydreams. She grabbed her purse off the table, her shoes off the floor and followed him to the door.

He tripped over nothing and stumbled forward grabbing to the wall.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, Malfoy always seemed more graceful than that.

"I think I've fallen for you" he grinned. So he was trying to be funny? It didn't suit him.

"Har, har..." Hermione said rolling her eyes and pushing him towards the door.

* * *

"This way" said the old elf at the door in affected English. 

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, but he was staring straight ahead. She could see the gears in his brain working, this unsettled her further. What was he thinking about? Probably about how to gather Voldemort supporters, after all, that was what they were here for. He had simply chosen to bring her along because he didn't trust her to handle herself alone.

They followed the elf through the large doors of the mansion and through a warm and receptive foyer covered in purple and cherry wood. Hermione could hear the chatter of mixed voiced not far off, it sounded like a decent sized group was attending.

Malfoy had filled her in on whose home they were visiting. It was the Bracknell's third home in the present vicinity. The Bracknell's were an old Irish wizarding family whose oldest son had married an affluent young Sicilian witch. The two family fortunes combined were said to be unprecedented.

The elf opened the door for them and stepped in "May I present Lord Malfoy and his companion, Miss Hermione Granger" he said with a sweeping bow.

The room went silent. Hermione felt herself being pulled forward by Malfoy. He had a grip on her elbow and wasn't relenting in the slightest. She smiled shyly to the room full of people. The glared Hermione up and down, then turned away and resumed their previous conversation.

"Don't leave my side unless I permit you" Malfoy whispered in her ear as he dragged her further into the room. Hermione nodded halfheartedly, she was searching for any sign of red hair. Upon seeing none, she felt comforted.

* * *

Hermione was dying of boredom, Malfoy was talking animatedly to every person that approached him, and Hermione was finding it impossible to remain focused. Nobody said anything to her, she was invisible. Only the elves talked to her. Well a few ladies had approached her. But after realizing that she wasn't royalty they had lost interest in her. Hermione felt as though she didn't belong. It was still hard to wrap her mind around the fact that she was pureblood. She technically she did belong. But years of being a _mudblood_ did not fade; these people would never be her own. 

Hermione sighed deeply and looked around the room. People were already milling out and heading to the dining room. She was hungry.

She touched Malfoy's sleeve lightly. He looked down at her in surprise.

"I'm going to go and sit down for dinner, okay?" she stated more than asked.

"Alright" he replied shortly before turning back around to whoever he was talking with before. He seemed to be hard at work converting wizards.

Hermione followed the other people out of the room and into the hall. She watched them walk to the foyer and then head into the third door on the right. She followed drearily, just wishing the night would already end.

"Mione'"

She cringed. Her whole body seized painfully and her teeth clenched. Hermione kept walking, quicker if possible. Her heart began to beat erratically as her mind flew wildly with vivid images.

"Mione' stop" Ron pleaded as he ran up behind her and grabbed the sleeve of her dress. Hermione stopped abruptly. There was gritting in her bones, she came to a halt and whipped around to face him. Ron closed the space between them in a second.

She was breathing deeply. Her whole body trembling at his closeness. Ron's baby blue eyes stared down curiously at her. He was still Ron. He looked exactly the same. His skin pale and freckled, his eyes doleful…Hermione's heartstrings snapped. She could not look at him like this; she could not let him near her. He was a monster. No matter how pink his lips were, no matter how soft his hair was, he was not human. He was a devil in disguise.

Ron reached with his fingers to touch her face. Hermione regained control of her body and stepped back rapidly. "Don't you touch me" she said coldly wagging her finger at him as though he were a small child.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked kindly.

Hermione closed her eyes as her body began to shudder violently, "Leave me alone" she repeated opening her eyes and turning around.

"Hermione!" he said in a harsher tone as he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him.

"Don't touch me _please_" Hermione pleaded pulling her arm away. Even his touched burned her. His smell, his skin, his voice, these things reminded her of the man she loved, the man she had been engaged to. But that _thing_ on his arm, this reminded her of the murdered who had finished off his whole family without second thought.

"What's wrong with you?" he said accusatorily. His face was no longer soft, but an annoyed snarl had replaced his old features. It deformed him.

"I think the question is 'what's wrong with you?'" Hermione replied coolly.

"Why are you being like this Hermione?" he asked in exasperation placing a hand through his hair. He looked as though he simply couldn't answer a difficult potion question, not as though he had destroyed people's lives and was now so guilt ridden he couldn't breathe. The normalcy of his actions was sickening. It was wrong. He should have been broken, crushed under the pain.

"How should I be? Should I have run to you, squealing with joy? You murdered your pregnant sister, you killed you family and friends, you left Harry alone, and you left me here, as nothing more than a _companion_What do you want from me?" Hermione whispered softly as she looked to the ground.

"I want you to say my name, I want you to tell me that you love me" he replied stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

Hermione stepped back, "I don't think so" she said callously "your demands are more than laughable. I don't want to say your name because I don't want to think about you. And I don't love you. I did, but I don't. And if you should think that I do, then you are completely delusional".

"Hermione, come to me. I know you love me…you need to be with me Hermione, not with Malfoy. I can make everything better" he promised as he moved towards her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

The weight of his hands felt like the weight of the guilt on her heart. "No. You can't make anything better. You've destroyed everything we've ever worked for. You've ruined thousands of people's lives. _You alone_" Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes, "You can't fix this, you can't make it better, you just can't…"

She stepped back further, she was distancing herself from him emotionally.

"Hermione I need you. I've missed you. You don't know how much I love you" Ron pleaded. He seemed sincere, but he couldn't possibly have been. Hermione would not underestimate his lying abilities.

"You don't need me, you need Voldemort. You love him more than you ever loved me" Hermione chuckled softly, "Love is not betrayal" she said simply.

His face contorted slowly, his mouth twisted and his eyes hardened, "You will be mine Hermione, think what you like, but you belong by my side. You will love me like you did before, and you will be happy" he said threateningly.

"No!" Hermione cried angrily "I won't, get it in your head. You fucked up, you've lost it all. And now you can live in your miserable existence alone, I won't be witness to it!" she yelled.

Draco heard the yelling and quickly excused himself from the conversation and the room. He stepped out into the hall and walked quickly towards the foyer. Granger stood there with Weasley. Tears were streaming down her face and he was threateningly advancing on her. Draco stepped towards them, "Granger, a word!" he said harshly.

She seemed to jump out of her skin at the sound of his voice. And if possible, she looked even more terrified of his presence. Draco grabbed her arm, "Excuse us Weasley" he said shortly as he dragged Granger into another room. The look on Weasley's face had been dangerous. What had she done?

Draco threw her into what appeared to be an office. Granger turned away from him and stared at the wall. He could see her body shudder; he knew she was holding back tears.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked heatedly.

"He approached me!" she cried in defense.

"I don't care if he bound you, or forced you at wandpoint to talk to him! Unless you were under the imperius, what you did out there unacceptable and embarrassing for me!" Draco said lividly.

Hermione shook her head sadly; no matter where she was she had no one. No one who believed her, no one who trusted her, no one who cared. "You all hate me" she whispered softly. The hurt in her voice was apparent, "You all really hate me. You hate me, Ron hates me, and even Harry hates me" she said quietly.

Draco could see that she was lost. It was clear as rain upon her face. He could feel the heavy air in the room. "There really is no one who cares. Harry cares about Ron, Ron cares for Voldemort, and you're only interested in your reputation. But why should I be surprised?" she laughed madly, "Why am I surprised about this? I mean, I knew you were an asshole, I knew about Ron, hell, I even had a feeling Harry would abandon me"

He frowned at her, Draco was confused, where had this come from? There didn't seem to be much he could even say. "I'm lost Malfoy! Are you happy? I don't know who I am! I have no friends; I have no purpose in this world. I'm a stupid little bitch that follows at your heels…" she went silent and her eyes dropped.

Draco scoffed, "Please, get a grip Granger. The world doesn't revolve around you" he crossed his arms.

Her eyes rose and flashed angrily, within two steps she had reached him and slapped him hard across the face. Draco could feel his teeth shake and a pang resounded in his head. His eye refocused and he stared at her. Granger stood before him chest heaving, completely livid.

He slapped her back.

She slapped him again.

He slapped her extremely hard this time. Even he could feel a burning on his palm.

This time she didn't hit him back, instead she crumpled to the floor in sobs.

Draco looked down disdainfully at her.

"When you grow up and get over yourself, you can join us all for dinner" he said coolly stepping away. He turned away and walked out of the door, closing it on her cries.

* * *

Granger never came to dinner, but Draco went through it casually and unworriedly. So long as he could keep his eye on Weasley he wasn't worried. But eventually unease settled in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of leaving Granger alone in that room. 

She was upset. Who knew what she would do. What if she were to complain to Potter when they returned? This would not bode well for him. Draco excused himself from the table and left the room. He walked slowly, so as to not portray any emotion to the other guests. He could feel Weasley's glare on the back of his neck.

He felt a little guilty for leaving her as he did. It was just that sometimes he forgot she was human. To him she was Granger, just a name, just an idea. Not worthy of even being looked at twice. And her little speech had done nothing to penetrate his shell. But the look on her face before she collapsed felt like the roughest slap he had ever received. It was a look of pure hatred, and complete surrender.

* * *

The door opened slowly, but Hermione barely registered this. She felt as though she were asleep. Only sensing things halfway. Her hunger had caused her body to begin to shut down. She hadn't eaten anything since one and it was near nine now. Maybe that was why she was falling asleep, her body probably wanted to ignore the hunger. She sighed softly and ran her fingers over the carpet beneath her. It was soft and full, very inviting. Just a few more seconds and everything would shut down into bliss. 

Just a few more seconds and she could retreat to her dreams where life was perfect. Where Ron loved her still, where they had won…where people lived and she was a godmother who spoiled her godchild…

"Granger"

"Just let me die please" she whispered softly, shutting her eyes tighter.

"Come on, get up. I'm taking you back home"

"No…I have no home" Hermione replied.

"Don't be so dramatic" Malfoy sighed tiredly.

Hermione wasn't sure if she was actually having a conversation with Malfoy, or if it was her mind playing tricks on her. She didn't care to know, at this moment, she refused to move. "I have no home, I have no family, no friends, I am dead to the world" she said calmly, expelling all of her worst thoughts casually.

Draco sighed and sat down next to her. She refused to move. She lay flat on her back on the carpet, her hands at her sides, her eyes closed shut. "Please?" he asked placing his hand on her stomach to get her attention. It did little to rouse her.

"No. I hate you" Hermione said serenely, she picked his hand off her stomach and dropped it to her side.

"Well, I don't really hate you. And as I recall you said you didn't hate me either" he reminded her.

Hermione sneered, "Maybe I lied" she replied.

"You can't lie to save your life" Malfoy said seriously.

"Why do you confuse me?" she asked opening her eyes and propping herself up on her elbows. She looked at Malfoy inquisitively and seriously. He crossed his legs and placed his head in his hands, looking at her in mild interest.

"How so?" he asked.

"You act so nice to me at one moment, but in the next, you really make me hate myself" she said sadly. Her eyes were large and confused; Draco felt a tiny bit more guilt land on his chest.

"That's just who I am" Draco replied shortly.

"I don't think it is" Granger said with a timid smile, she looked positively defeated at the moment. Draco sighed and looked down so as to avoid her gaze, it unnerved him deeply. When she looked at him so earnestly, that was when he realized what a horrible human being he was.

"Listen, it's who I am. End of story, I don't have to explain myself to you" Draco said coldheartedly, "After what you did tonight, you'll be having a lot of explain to do to me"

"He was threatening me" Hermione said sitting up defensively.Why didn't he understand?

"I told you I don't care" Malfoy replied.

"Why am I always in the wrong?" Hermione cried out tearfully, "Why is everything my fault when it really isn't? What did I do wrong?"

"Granger…"

"No really" she said sitting up on her knees and moving awkwardly close to him. Draco couldn't breathe with her proximity. He could count her freckles and smell her perfume, she was too close, some barrier was being crossed here. "What did I do Malfoy? I'm sorry that I was born!" she punctuated this with a smack to his chest. He felt it deeply, "And I'm sorry I met you" she hit him again…

"I'm sorry I ever met Harry or Ron"

**Smack. **

"I'm sorry I ever got involved with the fucking Order"

**Smack. **

"I'm sorry I fell in love"

**Smack. **

"I'm sorry for being such a fool about everything"

**Smack. **

"I'm sorry for letting my best friend and her innocent child die because I was weak and pathetic"

**Smack**…her hits were becoming weaker and weaker. Draco did nothing but allowed the onslaught. He did not know what to do. Words had failed him completely. Here was a girl, breaking before him. A little piece snapping off her soul everyday, and he had to witness the damage. He had to be there for her, because no one else was. It was a situation he had never before lived. This girl was actually dependent on him, she needed him.

"I'm sorry for being _your_ burden" she hiccupped as though reading his mind.

Her hands rested on his chest as her head dropped down into his lap, "I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry all of the time" she cried angrily. Her hands slid down his chest slowly. Draco was stunned with her gentle touch, only moments after having been hit repeatedly in the same spot.

Her hands continued down his chest and over his thighs to drop on either side of him, "I'm just sorry…" she concluded.

Draco looked down at her forlornly. He placed his hands on her head and wove his fingers through her hair gently, comfortingly. "I'm sorry I confuse you" he whispered softly "I'm sorry for when I'm mean to you, I'm sorry for what you've had to live through, and I'm sorry that you carry everyone else's guilt as you own. You don't deserve that. You are a good person Hermione Granger"

Hermione lifted her head slowly; Malfoy pushed her hair away from her wet face and gazed sympathetically at her. She wasn't aware that he could even muster sympathy, but it was his words that startled her more than his actions. His finger ran over her wet cheeks tenderly. Hermione wanted to cry again, he was frustrating her, confusing her with his actions all over again. How was he so kind now when earlier he had told her so coldly to grow up?

His grey eyes were murky, holding thoughts of their own. Even though he was looking at her, Hermione felt as though Malfoy was looking through her, think about his own regrets. He was a man, of flesh a blood, with his own regrets and shame. Not even Draco Malfoy was free from the burden that they all carried so lethargically.

"I never wanted to be sorry. I never wanted to live in guilt. I wanted to live in cotton candy clouds and roses" Hermione said in a serious tone.

"We all do…did" he corrected.

"I just want to pull it apart and put it back together, but I can't, can I? It's too late for that" Hermione said with a sad smile.

Malfoy shook his head, "Too late, this is the way things are. I'm sorry about that, for your sake, and for mine. But life isn't always ruled by the good and just. Life is not a fictional novel where the happily ever after trumps. In life not everything is fair" his hands slid down her face, over her shoulders. Slowly down her arms, her thighs, to land on her knees. His touch was warm and comforting, the only meaningful touch Hermione had felt in months. His eyes fell "I know you are alone, but we all are. Do you think I have anyone? I have a delusional father, people who would gladly turn on me in a moment, an insane leader…the only person I ever had was my mother. And she died trying to protect me from this fate" his eyes rose to hers, and Hermione could see the tears he held back. They swam uncertainly, holding onto his eyelashes, threatening to drop. She wanted them to.

He was a man, of flesh and blood, he had his own issues to delve through…he had a heart. However small and fragile, Hermione could see that he shared this with her.

She was a person, of flesh and blood. Her soul had been ravaged by the cruelties of life. Her heart shattered into tiny pieces. But she was human, she felt as he did, even more than he ever could.

Hermione leant forward and placed her hands on his face. She stroked his cheeks gently, sad little boy, that was all he was. He closed his eyes at her touch.

Her hands were soft and warm; her hands held more compassion than he had ever known in his life. It was laughable to imagine that Granger would save him, but here she was, still before him. After everything he had said, done, she didn't spit on him, she pitied him "Thank you Hermione" he said quietly. He wasn't sure what he was thanking her for, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You are welcome" she whispered "But there's just no use in being sorry about anything, because being sorry just won't change anything. And that is a reality that will just have to be accepted"


	9. Burn Bridges of Stone

**Chapter Nine: Burn Bridges of Stone**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. 'Aight?

**A/N Edit:** I went through this thing and edited all of my mistakes. I apologize for leaving them in the first place.

* * *

Draco closed the door to Granger's room behind him. It clicked with a sense of finality. He could not ignore what had happened tonight.

Something had changed; there had been a shift in his chest.

His heart beat more frequently now.

She had caused the shift in his chest.

Whether it was Granger's honesty, her listening skills, or perhaps that she had been the only person to touch him, to really touch him, with meaning in years…something had changed.

Draco walked to his own room quietly; thinking all the while about what made him feel so different now. He couldn't place this feeling, he couldn't place the uncertainty he sensed. It was new, and it left his skin running in tingles.

He opened his door and walked in. The door shut automatically behind him. He sat on his bed and placed his head in his hands. Relief; _that_, was all he could feel.

* * *

The next morning went by silently. But not awkwardly. Hermione buttered her toast on her own, refusing to allow the house elf to do it. Malfoy seemed to be watching her out of the corner of his eye. It made her uneasy. What made her uneasy was the way he was looking at her.

It was neither a disparaging look nor one that criticized her. But it was inquisitive. His murky grey eyes followed her around the kitchen from behind the rim of his coffee cup with ardent consideration. Hermione felt the back of her neck heating up as she bit into her toast facing the sink. She could not look at him, nor could she accept the fact that he was looking at her.

Malfoy's eyes hid every real emotion Hermione had learnt over the years. They were languid pools of secrets. And it startled her. Hermione had never imagined that there could be a single person so well crafted and built in stone.

But even Draco Malfoy had a breaking point. Hermione had seen that little crack in him last night. She had simply been spewing idiocy and she had expected another good slap, but had been surprised at his own admission. We were all human, but some were more human than others.

Hermione finished her toast and turned around to face Malfoy. But he was no longer there.

* * *

"I trust you, okay" he said as he waved his wand over her head.

Granger snorted at his comment, Draco ignored her "You can wander about, but you can't willingly attempt to make an escape from me, the spell will recognize this. And…" he turned around to look for the little package he had left on the table earlier. Draco walked over and picked up the little blue box. He brought it back to Granger; she was looking at it sceptically. What did she expect? A snake to pop out at her? Knowing Granger, that was probably what she was expecting. Draco rolled his eyes.

He opened the box for her and watched her eyes light up, and then go cold just as quickly. She was doing well at hiding her true thoughts from him. Legitimacy was one thing, but reading facial expressions was another. And Draco was far more skilled at facial expression. A minor flicker across a seemingly blank face could tell him all he ever needed to know.

"What do I have to do?" she asked touching the necklace in the box. It was a modest emerald stone on a white gold chain. Granger's eyebrows had disappeared under her curls. Smart girl, at least he wouldn't have to spend too much time explaining.

"You simply hold it tightly, even your will for my help will work. Then I will be notified" Draco said raising his hand and waggling her fingers before her face. A matching ring sat on his middle finger.

"And will you know where I am?" Granger asked as she took the necklace out of the box. She held it curiously in front of her face. It was glowing.

Draco snapped the box shut and threw it back on the table, "My wand will lead me to you. While I find this to be excessive, one can never be too sure" he said turning back around and away from her.

Hermione pulled the necklace over her head. It was nice, and powerful. She would have loved to research something like this back in her Hogwarts days. The necklace contained a charm of epic proportions. It was basically a protective charm, but the limitations varied by who had casted the charm. The spell had been dated centuries back. And while many different items had been used for the charm carriers, jewelry was most popular, and inconspicuous. Hermione recalled crossing over a glass bracelet in Dumbledore's office that she was sure had contained the spell for it had the same glow that most of these object tended to exhibit.

Dumbledore must have been a strong wizard to cast such a spell. Hermione wondered who he had casted it for. But it could have been entirely possible that it was not his spell, but one item that had come into his possession.

This charm was quite unbreakable and unfading. There was nothing to break it but the original casters will. Hermione fingered the necklace gently. She wondered how far this piece went back in the Malfoy line. She doubted that Malfoy could have managed this one on his own. And if he had, Hermione was worried, for it was sure to be faulty then.

"Here" Malfoy said as he came back towards her.

Hermione looked up in surprise, "What?" she asked stupidly, her mind had been elsewhere.

"Money" he said simply as he extended a fat pouch towards her. Hermione looked at him with a raised brow. Malfoy looked bored, and maybe a tad annoyed with her.

"Well, if you are going shopping you need money" he said in exasperation.

"I said window shopping" Hermione clarified. She didn't want to buy anything; she just wanted to get out for a while without him hounding her the whole way.

"I don't need windows, what a peculiar girl you are" Malfoy muttered as he dropped the pouch into her hands "Honestly" and with that he walked back up the stairs and to his study.

Hermione sighed and weighed the money in her hands. There was probably enough in there to buy her a house. She threw the heavy load into her purse and exited the villa; she was going to buy him windows, just to show him.

* * *

_Wall to Wall Wizard Furnishings _Hermione smiled and walked towards the building. All of the muggles walked past it without a second glance, it must have been charmed in some way. She pulled open the door and stepped inside. Instantly her head began throbbing. The cool blast of air-conditioning hit her hard and her skin broke out in goosebumps.

"V aux io aiutare tu?" a plump friendly man asked coming out from behind the corner.

Hermione blanked. So, her parents had taught her Sicilian but had never really bothered to expand her knowledge of Italian. "Io avere bisogno specchio" she stuttered unsurely, positive that her grammar was horrid.

The man blinked unsurely, "Uhh…" Hermione was mortified, clearly he couldn't understand her, she had only asked for mirrors.

"Non parlo italiano" Hermione said with another grimace.

"No problemo!" the man laughed clapping his pudgy hands together. He reminded Hermione of a hamster, short and squat, with watery eyes and whiskers. A mouse, but nicer than a rat. "Mirrorz? I cana find you a mirrorz!" he said in excitement as he began to walk down further into the store. Hermione followed him silently and gratefully. If she had had her wand she would have simply been able to perform a charm on herself and she would have instantly been an awesome speaker of Italian. She wondered where her wand was now…

Hermione squeezed in-between the living room sets. Floating, colour changing, vampire repellent furniture. Hermione had never been a great fan of wizard furnishings. She had always loved her parent's old Victorian furniture, and she had been excited to inherit it all. But who knew where it was now, either burned to the ground, or left to drown in dust. She heaved a loud sigh.

"Mirrorz!" the man said in an exaggerated tone of excitement as he opened a room at the back of the shop for Hermione. The whole room was covered in mirrors of all shapes, sizes, and degrees of magic. Mirrors that told you your desires, faulty mirrors of Erised, mirrors that said the truth, mirrors that helped you dress. "I'lla be back!" the owner said as he walked out of the room and left Hermione to browse.

She walked around the room silently; the mirrors were all speaking to her as she passed…

"Oh that hair!"

"You want true love…"

"Death approaches you sweetheart"

Hermione ignored them all. A glint of silver caught her eye; Hermione crouched down on the ground. A tiny open shaving mirror sat at the bottom of the pile. She picked it up gently, "And what do you do?" she asked softly. She wiped off the grimy surface with her hands.

"I am a mirror of many talents" it replied in an odd voice. It had the deepness of a mans tone, but the gentle tongue of a woman's intonation.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Yes, you ask me questions, and I reply" the mirror said.

There was no change in its surface as it spoke; the voice simply came from it. The only change was the heat it pooled into Hermione's palm. "What kind of questions?" Hermione asked with a raised brow. She stood straight and kept her eyes on the little mirror.

"Matters of the mind and soul" it replied.

"So…everything really"

"Cheeky are you?" the mirror said in that same deep tone. If it had a face Hermione would have imagined it to be smiling at the moment.

"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione asked, instantly mentally smacking herself for being redundant.

"You can, but I guarantee no answer"

"Will I ever be freed?" she questioned desperately. And as the words left her mouth Hermione realized how pathetic she sounded. Asking a toy mirror about her fate. There were gypsies down the street, she might as well have consulted them for all the good it would have done her.

"Free from what? You are free my dear" the mirror said in confusion.

"How can I be free, I'm being held hostage by a man I loathe" Hermione said with an annoyed scoff. Oh lord she was sad, getting angered at an inanimate object that was clearly charmed to annoy.

"But love, freedom is a matter of the heart. And you, appear to still be free before my eyes" the mirror replied calmly.

"You have a name?" Hermione asked coolly. Her fingers had twanged sharply with the desire the snap the damn thing shut, but she had resisted.

"Verity is my name"

"Where on earth did you come from" Hermione asked in confusion.

"France I believe originally, but I have been in existence for a long time. It's difficult to keep track of all of my moving about"

"That's all and well" Hermione said. She snapped the thing shut. She was tired of talking now, but certainly wanted to continue the conversation later. Hermione would buy the mirror.

* * *

"No zale, no zale" the owner said shaking the three necks that supported his bloated head.

"Why on earth not?" Hermione asked agitatedly as she leaned upon the sales counter with her elbows.

"Not for zale" The man simply repeated.

"How about…" Hermione reached into her purse, she pulled out the whole bag of money Malfoy had given her "for this much?"

The mans small watery eyes widened, he grabbed the bag and turned it around dumping all of its contents onto the countertop. Wads of paper money fell out along with coins.

"Yes, for zis much, yes" he said in awe.

"Good" Hermione smiled.

* * *

The people on the street were all glistening with sweat as the temperature continued to rise. Dark clouds were rolling in over the sea, the hope for rain was clear on all of the people's faces. Hermione kept smoothing her hair with her hands; the humidity was doing little for her. Her hair was huge, her dress clung to her wet body and she felt so weighty. The thick air was heavy and slowly the clouds continued to roll closer over her head. Hermione was praying for a little rain. Odd enough since she was always crying for the sun while in England.

Thunder rolled above. She continued down the stone streets, she had promised to be back by dinner. If she wasn't…well, some hair tugging wasn't exactly out of the question. She quickened her pace and turned the corner. Another clap of thunder broke, joined soon by a smothering of lighting. It flickered down the whole street and caused Hermione to nearly jump out of her skin.

Then the rain broke through. It fell heavily and coolly. Hermione sighed lightly and tilted her head up. Her flesh broke in bumps and her hair was soon plastered to her face. She just let the rain fall on her, cooling her skin and refreshing her completely. It pattered on the stone loudly and soaked her dress through.

Hermione lowered her head and continued her way back to her house. The house…Draco's house…whatever it was.

After a minute or two the rain was no longer fun nor refreshing. It beat like mad on her now and it felt as though she was being bombarded with hard rocks. Hermione quickened her pace; she could hardly hear her breathing over the pelting rain. A small stream of steam began to issue from her lips with every breath. Hermione had not been aware that rains in Sicily were so cold. This was a drastic change in weather, even for a world wrecked by global warming. A chill ran down her spine.

Hermione stopped and stood silently, straining her ears to hear…what? Something…

Another cold chill racked her bones, something felt off… Hermione began walking again. As quickly as she could without breaking into a run. She didn't want to look like a complete lunatic. A faint yell reached her but it was drowned by the sound of the storm. Hermione looked backwards trying to place where the sound could have come from.

All around her everything had become shades of grey. Her eyes flickered back up to the sky. Swirling purple clouds began to drown out even the distant blue. What was happening? Hermione began to panic, she was never a fan of storms, and this looked like a class A hurricane or something.

"Oh Malfoy, where are you when I need you?" she muttered quietly to herself. She shrieked as another clap of thunder sounded over the small town. There were no people on the streets, the blinds had been pulled down in every home, Hermione felt alone. And dare she say, rather scared at the moment. She began moving again, walking at a frantic speed. Another yell, this one was closer. And then another, this one seemed more like a scream.

What was going on? Why the hell were people screaming? Was it because of the storm? Did that have anything to do with it? Was there a tornado headed her way? Impossible, the land was far too elevated for a tornado to be able to form. So it must have been a tsunami or something. Well…maybe she was grasping for straws. Hermione's mind kept frantically churning out scenarios as she practically flew over the sidewalks on her way back. She would take the damn scorching heat back if it meant getting out of the rain.

A piercing scream reached her ears from nearby. It was close, very close. It began to die away, and it didn't seem to be because of the rain. More yells continued, each weaker than the last until they completely faded. Hermione was in full panic mode now. She grabbed her necklace tightly in her fist and squeezed it.

"Come on Malfoy, hurry up, I'm scared shitless and something is going on here" she whispered jumping nervously on her feet. The steam continued to rise from her lips, the temperature was continuing to drop, what was happening?

She didn't know where to go, if it was worth it to continue on her way or to just wait where she was. "Come on" she pleaded to no one. Hermione began to cry, from hopelessness, fear, worry, uncertainty. Something was happening, and she did not know what, what was worse was that she had no form of protection. She was without a wand.

Another cold chill ran down her spine, this one shook her through for a good thirty seconds. Hermione turned around, nothing; it was all grey, all barely visible through the rain and mist that had begun to form about her feet. A different coolness touched her nerves now. A familiar one, but not in any pleasant way. "Oh shit" she muttered in desperation.

Dementors, it must have been. She could feel them; she could smell the rot now. They were near. But why? What business did dementors have here, now? Unless Voldemort had sent them, but why? Hermione couldn't understand any of it. "Hurry up Malfoy" she whined in desperation as she clenched the necklace tighter, she could feel it digging into her flesh, the pain numbed by the cold.

"Granger?" she heard him call.

"Malfoy!" she cried back in relief to the general direction his voice had come from.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Fucked if I know!" she replied angrily looking around for him.

A cold wet hand wrapped around her wrist, Hermione screamed loudly. "Shut up" Malfoy growled as he clapped his other hand over her lips. "They're by us" he added into her ear. Hermione could feel his body pressed against her back, his hair sticking to her neck, his warm breath sliding down her chest.

He released her mouth. "Can't you use your patronus to drive them away?" she asked quietly, a trace of a whine in her tone.

"No" he whispered back, "There are many, thousands probably…although I can't understand why…"

"You and me both" Hermione muttered.

She felt him spin her around and grab her tightly around the waist, pulling her flush against him, his head bent to her ear, "I'm going to apparate us away, but they will sense the magic, so do not be alarmed if they attempt to swarm us"

Hermione's witty reply was cut short with another unpleasant sensation, "they're nearby" she said in a singsong voice.

Black fleeting shadows were closing in on them, but in a second they had all disappeared.

* * *

"What the hell are dementors doing in Sicily" Hermione raged as she dropped her soaking wet dress at the door and took the bathrobe from Malfoy's hands.

"I don't know" he said with a deep frown.

"Shouldn't you? You and Voldemort are buddy-buddy, you mean to say he doesn't share this information with you?" Hermione asked tying the robe tight around her body and continuing to the living area where a fire had been lit. She dropped on the couch.

Malfoy followed her; his eyes were cold and his face hard. "The dark lord does not see it fit to share every single piece of information with me" he replied.

"Not even something as important as this? Surely he sent you here, so why didn't he tell you that he planned to attack people?" Hermione asked rationally.

Malfoy was silent, apparently stumped for an answer he appeared to be really thinking about her question. Hermione found this odd. Just what was Voldemort up to when he wouldn't even tell his most prized death eaters about his plan?

* * *

Draco look up at Granger, she was a smart girl. A little hotheaded, but she asked all of the right questions. What did this mean? Was it accidental? No, hardly anything was accidental when it came to the dark lords plans. So it must have been planned well, but why had it been kept from him. Draco had not even the slightest inclination that this was going to happen. So who was entrusted with this information? Was anyone? What was the dark lord planning? Was his position in danger?

No, impossible. Draco was smart and loyal, the dark lord recognized that. So what was this raid about? Surely it was not simply to siphon out the souls of innocent people. Was this a message to the Sicilian wizarding communities, a warning of his power against them, a threat? Possibly…probably.

He watched Granger get up and walk back to the door. She grabbed her purse and came back to him. "I bought you something" she said simply.

Draco's eyebrows rose, "You bought something for me?" he asked in surprise. What if she had bought him poison, or a trap, or something that could harm him, he didn't put it past Granger to try and harm him.

"Yes I did" she pulled out a small brown parcel and handed it to him. Draco looked at it skeptically. He ran his hand over it but he did not sense any dark magic. There was strong magic within it, but it did not seem dangerous.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, you'll have to open it" Granger said nonchalantly waving her hand at him.

Draco opened it slowly and carefully ready to drop it cold should the need arise. He ripped off the brown paper and found a large green jewelry box to open. He opened it and finally a small rounded silver thing fell into his hand, he dropped the box onto the couch. The silver circle was about the size of a large pocket watch, but it did not appear to be so. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's a shaving mirror" Granger replied calmly.

"You bought a mirror? For me? What for?" Draco asked in confusion as he flipped it open, inspected the outside, looking for mysterious traces of poison on it.

"To inspire confidence in you!" she said with a false brightness, "No, to boost your vanity"

"Ha ha, sad little Granger, can't even make a proper joke. No wonder you were the wet towel of the trio" Draco grinned as he shut the mirror.

"Ha ha, sad little Malfoy, did you know you have a bug in your hair?" Granger retorted smartly.

Draco glared at her "There couldn't be a bug in my hair, it was raining outside" he said with confidence. But he didn't last long before the paranoia overwhelmed him. He picked up the mirror she had bought and checked his hair. No bugs, none at all.

"You are a liar" he said coolly.

"I thought I saw one" she said uninterestedly.

"Hello"

Draco nearly dropped the mirror in surprise, "It spoke!" he cried out.

Granger was laughing at him.

"You bought me a speaking mirror? What is it supposed to do? Insult me when you can't?" he asked with a sneer.

"If you like" the mirror said in complete seriousness.


	10. INFATUATION

**Chapter Ten: I-N-F-A-T-U-A-T-I-O-N**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** This is a bit of a rambling chapter, a collection of most of the info already displayed, and some nice little tidbits that will expand and become issues later on. So, next chapter we get more action, less talk.

* * *

"Smart" Malfoy muttered as he shut the mirror much more roughly than necessary. He then gazed at it curiously, turning it over in his nimble hands.

Hermione observed him shrewdly, "So you aren't worried about the dementors at all?" she asked casually.

Malfoy turned to look at her, his nose crinkled as though he had smelt something particularly unpleasant.

Perhaps it was her muggle stench. It would be brilliant if Hermione could have it bottled and sell it as a pure-blood repellent. Like the spray they had for bears. Except hers would ugly the pure-bloods with mudblood germs, and they would be so distraught with their own ugliness that they would run off the nearest sixty story building…this was all fun and well, except for the fact that she was now a pureblood too.

Hermione refused to believe it. It made everything she worked for so hard just seem…so much less important. Whether it was true or not, it was best ignored. All it caused he was added grief.

"Well?" Hermione said looking at her nails.

"You are my entertainment, not my business. I have no desire to discuss such things with you" he said coldly.

Hermione opened her mouth-

"I suggest you keep quite. I have a terrible headache and I am not above throwing you downstairs in the dungeons if you continue to pester me" he said evenly as he stood from the couch "Don't disregard everything, we are not friends Granger, and we won't be. You are my toy, so don't forget your place".

Shock was bubbling out of her open lips. Where the shock had come from, Hermione had no clue. She really shouldn't have been surprised; she had just let her guard down was all. And now Hermione was glaring so hard she was sure that Malfoy would be able to feel the heat on the back of his neck. But he walked out of the sitting room quietly without another look back.

There was a sudden sense of relief, but a longer feeling of dread looming ahead. Worry was ebbing her hard exterior away. Hermione was damned with him, damned without him. But Voldemort's actions were causing the unpleasant bubbling sensation in her stomach. Why had he sent so many dementors to a small area in Sicily? It made no sense logically. As far as Hermione knew, the Sicilian Magical Ministry didn't seem too opposed to Voldemort's actions. They didn't consider it their war and were willing to just step back and allow him to take over England…

But how stupid they were. Did they not realize that Voldemort was planning to take over Europe, the whole world eventually? He was simply buttering them up, softening the defenses of ignorant countries with promises of neutrality, and then he would strike. It was like Hitler all over again.

Well, that wasn't too fair…Hitler was a saint compared to Voldemort. He had managed to wipe out most of England and Whales in a matter of weeks. Now there was less than a thousand people total living there…where there had been millions before…

She still couldn't shake the thought of those dementors closing in on her. Was it accidental? Or was there a reason; it just seemed too arbitrary to be arbitrary. If Malfoy hadn't arrived when he had, surely Hermione would be without a soul now… It just drove her crazy, being unable to understand what was happening. Even before, even when she Harry and Ron were looking for horocruxes, there was always a sense of understanding. But Harry had been there, their personal Voldemort aerial sensor.

Now it felt as though she was walking through life blindfolded. Without purpose, without knowledge, and this was more terrifying then anything she had faced before. She was cursed and blessed to be alive…a human without purpose. Hermione sighed softly and she lay herself down on the couch. She was exhausted and nauseated.

* * *

She woke in the middle of the night to the sound of rain on the giant sitting room windows. She still lay on the couch, her muscles tied in knots from the discomfort. Hermione sat up slowly and tried to read the clock on the wall above the fireplace. Either it said two-thirty, or six ten, but she couldn't tell.

Looking out the window did no good either. It was so dark and stormy outside that it was impossible to tell the time of day. Hermione stood and walked closer to the clock, shifting around the coffee table.

It was definitely two-thirty. Hermione walked out into the hall silently and crept up the stairs to her room. On the second floor landing there was a light spilling from the crack of Malfoy's open door onto the hallway parquet. Hermione walked past it as quietly as she could. She opened the door to her room, and it issued a slight creak.

"Granger?"

"Damn" she muttered walking back to his door, she opened it to find Malfoy sitting at his desk; disheveled and distressed. "Why are you still up?" she asked casually as she observed the room.

It was blues and whites, cold and uninviting with everything lines up in its right place. The bed made using a ruler, all books and papers placed neatly and straightly upon shelves and his desk. Malfoy himself looked like a right mess though. His hair was knotted and all over the place, his bottom lip was raw from being chewed on, and he looked ridiculous in his dress shirt and pajama pants. "There's a slight issue" he said with a straight face, killing all of the humor Hermione had been finding in the scene.

"When isn't there one?" she asked tiredly as she leant against the doorframe.

He ignored her. "Listen, I think there's a slight misunderstanding that may be occurring" he said tersely.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. There was an edgy tapered quality to his speech, as though he was restricting himself from telling her something important. Hermione said nothing though, she continued to watch him silently and wait for what he had to say next.

"I think we might be in danger" he said.

"Oh, you mean the Order? Well, I'm sure they'll only want you dead" Hermione replied with a smirk before she could stop herself.

"There's a good chance that the Dark Lord wants me or you dead" he said quietly "or both" he added in an even quieter tone.

"I can see why he'd want me dead, but why would he want you dead?" she asked in blatant surprise.

Malfoy didn't reply, he took a minute to collect his thoughts. "The Dark Lord keeps nobody for long anymore, he changes his followers like robes, and I think my time may have come" he explained turning away from her and back to his desk.

He was lying. Hermione could see though his guise so easily. Clearly Malfoy had done something to piss Voldemort off and he wasn't telling her about it. But she would let it lie, for now anyway.

"My point is that you have to be more careful now. No running around alone, no mouthing off to me or I will have to seriously hurt you…I don't hate you…"he added lastly. Those words barely seemed to fit all he had said before.

"Right" Hermione muttered turning herself around and walking out the door; closing it behind her with a small click.

* * *

The next morning dawned, barely. The sky looked as though it had been split open with a hatchet. A small streak of blue was visible far ahead out into the ocean; all that surrounded it were shades of grey.

Dementors were still moving about…Hermione could sense them in the cold mist that hung in the air. There was a smell that resembled mildew, or wet garbage floating about in the air. The beautiful blue sky, green sea, all of these things were missing and instead were replaced with more grey. It was so bleak, and it did nothing for Hermione's mood.

She had managed to shuffle out of bed, and onto the balcony. There she sat on a swinging bench, completely covered with a blanket, as though the blanket would hide and protect her from the monsters not so far away. She sighed but tried to not breathe too deeply, the stench in the wind was terrifying. Perhaps she was imagining it but the smell of rotting bodies seemed to be floating about.

Her mind still rolled her conversation with Malfoy, over and over again. What had he done to put himself in danger? But it seemed like such a stupid question…Hermione herself knew the brutality of Voldemort, toward all, even his own. She had watched him swiftly kill Dawlish because the man had hesitated for a minute in killing Harry. It seemed far too real to consider herself in danger all over again.

She had really begun to give in. No…Hermione had begun to accept her situation. She couldn't recall the point exactly, but there must have been one when she realized that there was nothing she could do. But she wasn't resigned to sit in Malfoy's lap for the rest of her life. No, the second she saw Harry she would enquire about getting out of Malfoy's grasp and joining the resistance. It was her last glimmer of hope in this…existence.

"Tea?"

"Sure"

Draco seated himself down by Granger on the swinging bench and handed her a mug of tea. She took it silently. He could feel her thoughts churning and mulling about in air around them. She was thinking, and that scared him a little. Mostly because it was impossible to figure out what she was thinking about. He wouldn't even bother with the mind games, he'd probably just get lost in her head.

"Well…looks like there's no swimming today" he said, just for the sake of saying anything.

"Mmhmm" she replied.

Then there was silence. He didn't know what to say to her. He barely knew how to act towards her. She wasn't his slave, but she sure as hell wasn't his friend. Even worse, Draco didn't know what he wanted. To clarify, what he wanted from Granger, from the world, from himself. He had fucked up royally, and he was as good as dead. It was only a matter of time.

But what to do with Granger when he was out of the picture? This worried him, only slightly though…he didn't want anything bad to happen to her. She had no idea how lucky she was with him. No idea at all, and he would hate for her to have to learn the other side.

Draco was sure that Voldemort was planning Potter's demise. He wasn't going to keep wonder boy around forever. Voldemort was simply biding his time until he could gather defenses, or find a reliable way to kill scar head. If Draco was calculating correctly, he would say that the golden trio had managed to finish off all of Voldemort's horocruxes but his snake.

So what was Voldemort trying to do? He wasn't likely attempting to make more horocruxes; that would have been extremely foolish. Potter still had some weird charm type thing on him. Voldemort was convinced if he attempted another killing curse on Potter his body would surely not survive it. Draco would have suggested that Voldemort just try and smother Potter with a pillow. He may have been powerful, but Potter was still a mortal.

"How long will we be staying?" Granger asked.

"Four more days" he replied shifting his own mug of tea into his other hand.

"You cut the trip short" she stated.

"There just doesn't seem to be much point in staying here after I finish my business, not now that the province is overrun with dementors. I wouldn't call it too much fun" Draco yawned running a hand through his hair. He then turned and smiled weakly at Granger. She frowned back.

"So…how do you get out of this pickle?" she asked casually.

"Dunno" he replied honestly.

"You don't know…"

"Well, I wasn't really planning on dying young" Draco admitted.

"Yeah, I realized that when you ran out on us" Granger said with a cool chiding voice.

Draco shrugged.

"Well, look where it got you now. You managed to buy yourself a few more months, but in the end you'll still die, I'll die, Harry and Voldemort will die, the only thing that will differentiate us with be if we died with honor or cowardice" Granger said setting down her mug on the glass table. She then pulled the blanket closer around herself and drew her knees to her chest.

"You see the world in black and white. It's not okay to go about that way" Draco mused.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you just see in a spectrum of colours. You picked your side, and now you have to go down with the boat, whatever the outcome is" she said evenly.

"What about your boat?"

"My boat has sunk, really, I'm just waiting to die" Granger said casually.

"And would you say you'll die as a coward, or with honor?" Draco sneered.

"Don't know, I'll have to see how it plays out" she replied evenly. Granger was barely thrown by his rudeness. Draco took this as a sure sign that there were more important things on her mind.

"I still can't believe you just left like that" she added softly as an after thought. Draco could say nothing; he had nothing to say on the subject. "You just left in the middle of the night, without a word to anyone…"

"I did what I thought was right" he replied.

...

"Your sense of right and wrong is greatly skewed" Hermione said sadly. She turned to look at Malfoy; he looked exactly like he had that evening before he had disappeared. His hair a mess, his eyes red, nervousness slashed across his features. How had she not seen it before, how had she not noticed that something was amiss? Then he had just disappeared…being so stupid, so naïve, Hermione had though he had been kidnapped, taken away from them. She had cried for him…never once had she considered that he had left of his own accord.

This bitterness still attacked her every moment she looked at him. There was something still there, even after months that small nagging feeling hadn't died. She had begun to like him. Months spent with the man had caused her to warm to him…to his stupid quirks, actions, the way he walked and the way he spoke…all of these things. And even now, she couldn't separate the man she though he was, from the man he truly was.

"I'm sorry you think that way, but you don't know everything there is to know in life. Like I said before, you see the world in black and white, right and wrong, there are so many other possibilities Granger" he sighed.

"I see the world as it is, and especially in a situation like this…well there is only black and white. You're on one side or the other; you can't truly be on both. And you chose the other side…"

"The wrong side?" he added.

...

"Yes"

"I don't think it matters what you choose, but why you choose it" Draco said leaning forward on his knees and looking out into the dull scenery.

"Why did you choose it?" Granger asked. He could sense that little bit of resentment in her voice that never failed, it was always there, ready to bite at him. And Draco knew why it was there, he could hardly blame her. He had toyed with Granger mercilessly while they lived in that house. He had flirted with her relentlessly, even though it was wrong, even though he knew he wouldn't be staying, even though it meant nothing…

"I choose the other side for life" he said shortly.

Granger didn't reply, not even for a moment, "Stupid" she finally muttered, and she looked away from him to her right. Had she called him stupid, or was she speaking to herself. Draco gently placed his hand on her blanket covered knee.

"You chose the other side because of your infatuation with power..." she said coldly.

"You have no idea" Draco groaned.

"Stop telling me that I have no idea, that I don't know...I know. I had the same choice too, we all did, and we chose to not take it...you took it anyway" Granger said sourly.

"Yeah, I think you are right, it was infatuation that caused me to do what I did" Draco said giving in.

"Hmp" she snorted. Obviously she could tell that he wa giving in for the sake of avoiding an argument. And she didn't like it. But Draco wasn't giving in, he was agreeing with her. Oh yes, it was infatuation, pure infatuation with a simple idea...

"Have faith Granger" he said lightly.

"In what? I certainly don't have faith in someone like you. Someone who has no remorse, who feels nothing for those he kills… you killed my friends Draco…I watched you do it" she whispered sadly "I watched you slaughter people you had grown up with, people you had sat next to in class, played Quidditch with… I can't have faith in that".

"No, I suppose not" he said his face falling, he removed his hand from her knee.


	11. Oh, oh Trouble

**Chapter Eleven: Oh, oh, Trouble**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter of any of the characters.

* * *

Hermione was moving like a ghost. There was no certainty in her actions, and she couldn't even be sure she was actually doing anything. She picked up a cup, she set it down.

It made no noise. It made no difference.

The dementors were close. She could feel them like sticky cold dew on her skin. They were already draining her, sucking her of every feeling she had ever had. Her breath came out in small shivers, a small bit of mist surrounding it. It was freezing. And it was desolate in this house.

Malfoy was gone. She hardly knew where. He had simply gotten up and walked out the door without so much as a word to her. If nothing else, at least the dementors were dulling her panic. She was on the ledge; a slight push was going to send her down a frantic spiral. Where was Malfoy? And why hadn't he come back yet? If he got himself killed then there would be absolutely no hope. For all she knew, Voldemort was on his way here to finish her off as well. She ran her fingers along the kitchen counter. There was absolutely no difference; her hands were as cold as the marble. But they shook violently with anticipation.

Hermione's eyes jumped to the window, then to the door. What now? What was she to do? Was there anything? The dementors were slowly leaving the area, their cold numbness was disappearing and the fire in her stomach grew. She began to panic about her impending panic.

She couldn't make a run for it. The invisible rope was tied to her foot and to the post of the stairs. Allowing her access to only inside the house, and not even as far as the library on the second floor. If death was going to come for her. It would have to be swift, at least she hoped for as much.

A piercing scream outside startled her out of her reverie. Hermione dropped the cup she was holding onto the cold floor. It shattered into a hundred pieces, glittering in the filmy morning light. She could not even hear the sound of the broken glass as it hit stone floor, the scream was on repeat in her head. Loud, clear, and fresh, as though it were coming from her own lips. She thrust her body into action and ran to the door, peering through the glass.

There was nothing to see outside, the fog was thick and rolling, but as much as Hermione could make out, there were no shapes floating about. Was it a human that had run into a dementor? But would human scream? They couldn't even see the vile things, how were they to know what was coming for them?

She stepped away from the door quickly. Now the dread was in a fixed rise. Hermione could feel herself begin to grow balmy. Her eyes watered and her body shook in large tremors. But her mind worked quickly and efficiently.

There was no way to get rid of the rope. Only Malfoy could do that.

She had nobody to contact as Malfoy hid the floo powder. That would have to be a last resort.

There was nowhere to hide that dementors or wizards could not find her.

Hermione wasn't much of a masochist, so suicide wouldn't be any good. Plus she was certain Malfoy had a spell against that.

There was nothing else she could do. So Hermione opted for the floo.

Hermione hadn't a clue as to who she could contact. There was no way she could get in touch with Harry. She didn't know where he was, and the lines were not secure. That would only bring death down upon him as well. Malfoy was out of the picture, he was being assumed dead after all. She began with the drawers in the sitting room; she pulled up the couch cushions too.

Any survivors that she could remember being left? No, nobody. Lavender was an option, but if she were caught...Hermione didn't want to be the cause of those consequences. There was nothing in and around the coffee table. And nothing in the china cabinet. Damn, she'd never find the powder.

Oh. She was an idiot. Hermione Granger was a complete blithering idiot. As the chain had swung against her chest, she realized she had a perfectly good option right on her. Hermione grabbed the necklace Malfoy had given her tightly in her fist, so hard it had begun to dig into her flesh. Her stupidity was causing her to blush with chagrin. He had given this to her for such a reason as this, and it never dawned on her to use it. It wasn't just another piece of jewellery!

"Please Malfoy, please still be alive, come fucking get me, don't leave me here...come on...work damn it, work!" she cried angrily now tugging on the chain. Another scream sounded from the back of the house, towards the beach.

"Come on! You stupid slimy bastard git! Where are you when I bloody need you!" she screamed, aware that she was certainly attracting attention to herself as well. Whatever was out there was sure to have heard her now.

Another gurgled scream. This one was too close for comfort. She could hear the blood as it splattered on the pavement. It was right outside her door. Hermione felt her knees weaken and she slipped to the ground. Those weren't dementors. They couldn't have been. No, a human would not fear a dementor, and death by dementor had no sound, let alone gurgles and splatter of blood. What would a human fear?

Giants were too loud, and too complicated to handle. Humans didn't fear vampires, not so immediately anyway, that was also a silent death. Trolls? Not so far away, and certainly not goblins. Her mind flew through Voldemort's alliances, trying to figure out what was causing havoc on the streets. Deatheaters? Using what? Machetes? Aside from Voldemort himself, the only other terrifying creature out there was,

"Werewolves" Hermione whimpered softly. Her stomach did an unpleasant flip, and her tea rose up her throat.

She had had her fair share of run-ins with werewolves, and nothing scared her as much. Not even Voldemort. Death from a wizard could be quick, especially if they really wanted you dead. Death by werewolf was a slow and gruesome thing. Usually used for the Deatheaters entertainment.

"Oh Malfoy, if you really wanted me dead, couldn't you do it yourself" she groaned tiredly lying down on the carpeted floor and closing her eyes. Her body was worn out.

"Oh get up, and stop being so pathetic. It's not like you Granger"

Hermione's heart stopped. And the quickly restarted at the sight of Malfoy running down the stairs towards her. She had never been happier to see him. "Oh, finally" she cried stumbling to her feet and rushing over to greet him with arms wide open.

"Now, that reaction would be great every time you see me" he grinned tersely as her arms found purchase and she gripped him tightly. It was a poor attempt at humour, given their current situation.

"It's so loud, so much screaming" Hermione whispered locking eyes with him. He pulled out of her arms, and she followed him into the kitchen. He began opening cupboards, looking for something.

"Werewolves? Why?" she muttered more calmly now, eased with Malfoy's presence.

Malfoy suddenly turned around, his eyes locked on hers with a fervent force. "Did you see them?" he asked incredulously.

"No, but I've been listening to them massacre people within a kilometre radius for the last half hour" she replied coldly.

Malfoy turned back around, opening another high cupboard and reaching around back behind some fancy china tea cups. "Damn, I can't reach" he muttered. He clambered onto the countertop on his knees and tried again.

Another scream, this one was outside their door to the left. "The neighbours" Malfoy muttered to himself.

"Where did you go this morning?" Hermione asked as he pulled out an old silver walnut cracker.

"Business" he replied shortly.

"Listen here Malfoy; since this business of yours is now involving me, I want in on whatever you're doing. Don't leave me in the dark" Hermione demanded. He jumped off the counter and headed upstairs, she followed right at his heels.

"Sorry Granger, no can do. It's probably better if you're in the dark" he replied warningly.

Hermione stuttered and followed into his office. "I can't see how that would be" she muttered closing the door behind her. "What are you doing with that?" she asked pointing to the nut cracker in bewilderment.

He gave her an odd look and resumed grabbing papers off his desk and stuffing them into his cloak. Hermione shook her head and willed her brain back into work. "A portkey?" she asked disbelievingly wandering over to his desk.

"Yes" he muttered as he pushed a couple of scrolls into his pocket.

"Where?" Hermione asked softly.

"Where ever we're sent" he replied cryptically.

"Where Malfoy?" Hermione repeated angrily.

He glared at her from over his desk. "It doesn't fucking matter, anywhere but here right now. And I don't know. Where ever we're sent!" he growled.

"You don't know? Whose portkey is it? Who the hell are you entrusting this too? Please tell me you have this figured out. Don't jump blindly Malfoy, it could be the end of us both if you act reckless!" Hermione chastised, but there was a hysterical edge to her voice. She knew she didn't care, and she could agree that anywhere was better than here right now. That with the werewolves going from door to door. Anywhere was better, but for in the hands of Voldemort and his Deatheaters.

"Do you trust this person Malfoy?" Hermione asked seriously.

"Yes" he replied with certainty.

"Okay" she whispered, relenting. There was no way about this, he was taking her with him, whether she wanted to go or not. So it was best to just do it and shut up. Hermione wasn't one for giving in, or being obedient, but enough near death situations, and one learns that sometimes it's better to go with the flow. "How long?" she asked.

"Another ten minutes" Malfoy sighed sitting in his chair.

"Can we afford that?" she asked sadly.

He shrugged, "I don't really know"

Hermione walked around behind him and gazed out of his large window. The street down below was clean, of bodies. But there was red running down the gutters, red tingeing the fog, and a heavy metal scent that infiltrated the air.

"Why?" she asked, knowing he would know what she meant.

"Isn't it clear" he sighed, running his pale hand through his flaxen hair. Hermione could see just how tired he was, and just how aged. This was not a young man, and she was not a young women. She felt a hundred years old, and ready to crumble at any moment.

In another life she would have finished her Healer studies and would have been working as an intern. She would probably have been happily content with Ron, even if she wasn't deeply in love. But most importantly, everyone would be there with her. Even Malfoy could have had a place in her life, if he hadn't run out on them. Then even he could have been happy.

In this life she was tired and sad, thoroughly. In this life, she was the walking dead. But weren't they all. Just walking silently, doing their jobs without passion, hope, or love, knowing that death was handing low over the backs of their necks.

"So Voldemort does want us dead, what did you do?" Hermione asked sympathetically. She leaned her back against the window, staring at the back of his rumpled head.

"It doesn't matter, he'd want me dead soon enough anyway" Malfoy replied sadly. It was a strange tone to colour Malfoy's voice. True grief was not something Hermione thought him capable of. There was so much he wasn't telling her, and he wouldn't ever.

"While that may be true, what you did matters to me" she replied honestly.

"I can't imagine anything I do mattering much to you" he laughed dejectedly.

"It does, more now than ever. Especially now that our fates are entwined. What you do affects me Malfoy, and what I do will affect you. That is how things are now. And it also affects my view of you" she answered quietly.

"I didn't know that my views could be affected any longer. I thought I had dropped so low that I couldn't be redeemed" he said, Hermione could hear the smile in his voice.

"No, everyone can be redeemed, even you. Besides, I told you I didn't think you were a total monster. You're just misled, which is unfortunate. But you aren't a monster. Those things down there, killing people recklessly, are monsters" Hermione said with disgust.

"I've killed recklessly" he whispered, his head dropping lower. Was that regret she heard?

"No, you've killed carefully. I'm not sure which is worse for me personally. You've been careful to kill heavy people. People who are worth millions of muggles, but you keep your hands cleaner in that sense. But you've killed people I've loved" she murmured. Hermione then sighed and looked back out the window. "Time?" she asked.

"Two minutes" he replied looking at the clock.

"I don't think we have that much" Hermione whispered, goosebumps rolled up her arms.

Malfoy leapt outside his chair to look out the window as well. "Shit" he cursed pressing his forehead to the window.

Down, by the gate, the werewolves were tenderly pressing against Malfoy's shield. It bended against their fingers, giving. There were four of them; Hermione recognized only the first one. Her blood curdled at the sight of him.

They had found their targets. The only house on the street that they could not see, and now they knew that somebody was hiding in here. What would they do? Wait for a wizard to come blast the shield away, or wait for...

"You have to remove that shield in order for the portkey to work" Hermione said in terror, her fingers closing around her lips at the thought. It wouldn't take but two second for the werewolves to catch them. But it would take a whole thirty seconds for the shield to disintegrate. And there was now a minute left until the portkey went off.

"Any ideas?" Draco asked anxiously.

Hermione stared at him in horror.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes I'm back. It's been forever, and there's a long story to go along with it that I might or might not tell you but that basically consists of me going to Japan for two semesters and loving it! Sorry, for no forewarning. Lol, please take me back! Well, I'm making my rounds, and hoping to get a chapter up on every fic by friday.

Cheers,

Ana


	12. Pond

Chapter Twelve: Pond

**A/N: **I don't own Harry Potter, his friends, his enemies, or the people he pretends he doesn't know.

* * *

"Any ideas?" Malfoy asked nervously, his eyes were glued to the four werewolves prodding and sniffing at his charms.

Hermione stared back at him in disbelief. Ideas? Was he serious? Hermione was about to throw up and Malfoy wanted to have a pow-wow session on how to create an impossible escape from werewolves?

"No" she swallowed.

"I have to take the concealment charms down" he said pulling his wand out of his cloak "why don't you barricade the doors"

"Will it slow them down?" Hermione asked as she clambered to her feet and stumbled over to the dresser, decided to knock it over against the door.

...

"No, but it will give you something to do while I figure this out" Draco muttered inaudibly waving his wand around the room, pulling down the seals, layer by layer.

The armoire fell over with a deafening bang, spilling its contents against the floor. Hermione looked at the clock. There were thirty seconds left. She moved over to the vanity, pushing it against the door with her back...she stopped halfway. "Malfoy..." she said slowly, turning towards him... "Werewolves, they aren't exactly polite enough to use the door..." A cold wind rushed past her, the charms were down. Fifteen seconds.

Draco held the portkey tightly in his hand and backed away from the window towards Granger. "Touch the portkey" he said evenly. She rushed towards him and grabbed the handle.

The next few seconds moved like slow motion for Draco. The window exploded with extreme force, sending a shower of glass all over the room and them. It was a blurry sight, fur, robes, and glass flying all around the room from the wind. Draco locked eyes with Greyback, and the werewolf smiled a lopsided grin in his direction.

"Well, well, what have we here? Lunch?" Greyback huffed licking his teeth and moving toward them.

"I hadn't counted on you to use the small talk, thanks for stalling" Draco smiled. The sensation of being pulled by his navel kicked in and they disappeared.

* * *

Hermione was drowning. Literally.

The water was so cold it felt like a million needles stabbing at her skin. It moved though her nose and throat, causing her to gurgle and drink it. The water settling in her lungs was beginning to make her feel heavy, and she began to sink. Her arms felt too weak to swim upwards, and the water was so dark, she couldn't see the surface. She inhaled more water, her lungs were on fire.

Hermione looked down to her feet, it was only then she noticed there was a Grindylow clutching tightly to her robes. Hermione desperately pulled on her robes, trying to loosen them from the creature's fingers. If only she had her wand...but it was impossible to know what had actually happened to it. Likely destroyed to pieces...the thought made her want to cry. She yanked even harder, and felt the cloak give. It ripped to shreds in-between the Grindylow's sharp fingers.

The water around her was either getting darker, or her vision was starting to give...Hermione kicked as strongly as she could, and she felt herself rush upwards a few meters. One more, just one more, she repeated to herself. Another kick, and another few meters up, but not enough. Hermione could see the light now, the surface was so close. She kicked her legs with the last strength she had, her arms flailed...she broke surface, for only a second before sinking again. Hermione immediately spread her arms and legs, and pushed her stomach towards the surface. She floated up lightly.

The cold air stung her face. Hermione attempted to breath, but all she managed was a raspy wet cough. She coughed again, and again, her legs fell downwards as she continued to cough. She'd have to support herself with her arms. Another violent cough caused her to throw up all of the water and bile in her lungs. She breathed deeply now, the air cold and piercing, moving all the way down her aching lungs.

Hermione ventured to fully open her eyes. She was in a small pond, in a wooded area. Slowly she began to paddle to the shore, once reaching it; she collapsed on the muddy grass. Hermione rolled her knees to her chest and gasped softly. It was so cold, and every part of her ached, her eyes stung, and her skin burned...

"Malfoy" she croaked. Hermione could barely hear herself though.

She crawled up further away from the water, afraid another Grindylow might grab her. "Malfoy" she rasped looking for him.

There was no sign of his blonde head anywhere. Hermione collapsed on the ground again. Was he still in the water? If he was, there was nothing for her to do. If she jumped back in, Hermione knew she'd just drown. There was no strength left in her body. She hoped he had gotten out of the water...without him, she was dead. No wand, no one to help her, she was just waiting for something or someone to kill her. And if he had gotten out, why had he left her to drown...and to where had he gone?

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. There was nothing to show for any human life in the area...she was alone, somewhere.

Sometime later she had managed to move herself to the shelter of the trees. The weather was cold, but her wet clothes were worse. If she had her wand, it was a simple spell to soak up the water. Instead Hermione was in her underwear, covered with leaves, waiting for her soaking clothes to dry. A cold would kill her faster than anything else at this point.

There were birds, squirrels, and bugs in these woods. All good signs for Hermione, it at least meant that the woods were uninhabited by other creatures when these small ones were around. So for the meantime she was safe. As the time continued to pass, her worry grew. Hermione kept stealing glances at the pond, waiting for Malfoy to spring out of the water. But she wasn't so naive. If he was still in the lake, he was Grindylow food now. He wouldn't be surfacing anytime soon.

The woods grew darker minute by minute. It must have been at least six by now. Only four hours passed since the portkey took them here. Who's portkey, and why here, were two questions that plagues Hermione. Malfoy couldn't have made that portkey, he wouldn't have known ahead of time that they would have been attacked, and have made that exact time. But...what was the portkey for then? And it was so difficult to get a hold of one; such strong magic was required to make one. Hermione wondered if it were at all possible that they were meant to take that portkey anyway, and that it was just luck they managed to escape with it. Or, whether somebody had left it there as an emergency escape...

But, as far as Hermione knew, it was impossible to change the time a portkey was in effect. And Malfoy knew it was there. It was so confusing for her. She shivered under her light layer of leaves, her breath steamed out of her mouth. Hermione felt for the necklace around her neck, and held it tightly in her hands. The temperature kept falling...

Hermione woke suddenly. Someone or something was moving nearby. She kept absolutely still, and listened intently. It walked lightly, carefully. It wasn't an animal. Hermione slowed and quietened her breathing, and attempted to concentrate on locating it.

It moved strangely though...with stuttering steps, not like human feet, but not loud like a beasts. Hermione straitened up and stared straight ahead, she saw its silhouette against the trees.

It was a stag. She rubbed her eyes and rose to her feet. A real live stag, not Harry's patronus, but alive. She grabbed her clothing from the ground and dressed hurriedly. She was bent on following it where ever it was going. The stag began to move slowly, and so did Hermione.

The stag walked slowly and steadily, it hurried nowhere. Hermione felt something less than ordinary here from the moment she saw it. Stags were remarkably alert creatures; it knew she was following behind. A scared deer fled, it didn't calmly walk along, disregarding the potential danger.

Hermione stopped, the stag had stopped. Its head was up high, as though it was listening for something, waiting. Hermione listened too. She heard it; a 'hu-hu-hu' sound. The same kind she made after a good cry, when she was short of breath. The stag was gone. Hermione swallowed softly, and approached the sound. She was blind in the dark, but she had good intuition that nothing dangerous awaited her. In fact, she was almost certain as to what she was about to find...

"Oh, god" Hermione whispered "Lavender?"

On the ground lay Lavender, curled up into a ball, shakily breathing. She turned to face Hermione in disbelief, and laughed softly. "I'm dreaming" she whispered to herself "I was just thinking..." she shuddered again "how if I died right now, I'd like to see a friendly face first".

"You're not dreaming" Hermione said bending down towards her, even though she wasn't sure herself. Hermione helped Lavender sit up against a tree. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was, pulled out of my bed this morning...and brought here" she said breathlessly.

"Here?" Hermione frowned.

"No, not here" Lavender corrected "Somewhere near here, there was a...house, they brought me there" Lavender looked right at Hermione for the first time, and it startled her. Lavender's eyes were bloodshot, there was dried blood along her hairline, and she was gaunt. "The deatheaters...I think they wanted to kill me Hermione. But they kept asking me about you" Lavender said with a puzzled expression.

"And not just you, about Malfoy...but I didn't know anything..." Lavender began to cry now, Hermione held her tightly by the shoulders, willing her to go on. "They kept asking me things I didn't understand and hurting me..." her eyes flicked up suddenly "But then something happened, and they all ran away. They said, someone was here...and I ran. I picked myself up, and ran as far as I could...to here" she concluded faintly. "Why are you here?" she asked bewildered, still uncertain if she was dreaming or not.

"I don't know" Hermione whispered, slumping down next to Lavender. "Malfoy and I escaped when Greyback and his gang came for us. We used a portkey to get away, but ended up here"

"Where is Malfoy?" Lavender asked.

"I don't know" Hermione said wiping her nose. "I don't understand why the portkey would take us here...and I just don't know"

"Who made the portkey?" Lavender mused.

"I don't know" Hermione repeated.

"...but you said you and Malfoy escaped. I doubt he'd bring you into danger. He doesn't seem like the type" she whispered sadly.

"What about Blaise? Where is he?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, and I don't care" Lavender said coldly, "Hopefully dead, in pieces, put through a meat grinder. If I were in your situation, I'm certain Blaise would have left me as a snack for the werewolves while he escaped...wait, why were you attacked" she added in confusion.

"Another thing I don't know" Hermione sighed.

They sat in silence. There were many things to discuss, but nothing that would help them; all of their questions were just dead ends. They had no answers, they were two girls, lost, without magic, or resources. "Hermione, I've been thinking..." Lavender began slowly

"Yeah?" Hermione replied.

"Well, isn't it possible to intercept a portkey?"

Hermione frowned, "I suppose, you'd have to know what it was, and what time it would go off in order to do such a thing. And even then, it takes incredible magical ability to deter a portkey path that you didn't create..."

"Power that Voldemort has" Lavender added.

"I suppose, but still, it doesn't make sense that he would know..."

"Hermione..."

"Never mind, it makes perfect sense that Voldemort would and could know everything" Hermione relented. "But it still leaves me without answers, why was Voldemort so..." Hermione gasped softly. "The portkey was already created. Voldemort would have been able to sense the amount of magical energy needed to create it. So he knew it was made by Draco for that time and place...which is probably why he tried to stop us from going. And likely why Draco took us somewhere away from England. And so Voldemort stopped the process and brought us here. But where was I meant to go?" Hermione asked desperately. "What could have been so worrisome for Voldemort to prevent us from going there...why would he want to stop it?"

"I don't know Hermione, but it sounds to me like Malfoy isn't a terribly loyal deatheater" Lavender said softly "he seems to have done something to upset Voldemort"

"Malfoy said its Voldemort's way to dispose of his deatheaters frequently" Hermione replied.

"But not Malfoy..." Lavender said shaking her head "He's special, we all know he is. He's Voldemort's favourite, even Blaise was scared of him...Malfoy would have had to done something really bad..."

Hermione nodded and sighed, placing her chin on her knees "So what do we do now?" she asked.

Lavender just shrugged silently "I suppose...nothing right now. It's the middle of the night, there's nothing we can do. We'll have to wait until morning, and then figure it out"

"Yeah" Hermione agreed. Figure it out. There was so much of that left to do.

"Besides, walking around in the dark, we'd just be likely to fall into a pond or something"

Hermione smiled.


	13. The Background

**Chapter Thirteen: The Background**

**A/N: **I don't own Harry Potter. If I say it enough times, does it make it true?

* * *

Hermione smiled so widely her lips felt as though they would split, "The plans I make still have you in them" she said. There was bright light streaming from above them, caused by an unnaturally white and unseen sun. The air around them was bending from the heat, making the whole world seem unstable.

"Really?" the girl standing across from her asked with a wry grimace, she clearly disapproved.

"Yeah" Hermione whispered in embarrassment.

Hermione woke so suddenly she frightened herself. Her hand automatically reached into her cloak for the wand that no longer occupied that space. She slowly sat up and looked around alertly. But saw nothing at all. Lavender was still sleeping next to her, her breathing was slow and ragged; it was obvious that she was ill. Hermione rubbed her eyes and sighed softly, her dream had felt too genuine. It saddened her greatly how vivid everything was, and how real the emotions were, even after her waking. Still raw, still angry, and still unable to move an inch away from what had occurred that day. Hermione wanted to laugh at herself, to laugh at where she was in her life right now, because, although she knew her mind should be preoccupied with the now, inevitably her thoughts always wandered backwards. Ever since the world crumbled around her, she had been dealing with her own psychotic tendencies.

She still subconsciously made all her plans to include the dead, and the lost friends she once had. Back when she could make her own plans. Even a trip to the grocery used to make her wonder about what Ginny would have liked to eat, what her craving of the week would have been, if Harry wanted to read the new Tattler... some chocolate frogs for him...simple things. And even now, she couldn't escape herself with dreams of then, despite the consequences of the now.

The sky between the tops of the trees was still an inky blue. There was no telltale sign that time had moved in the slightest. Hermione couldn't tell if they had slept an hour, or ten.

Her throat was parched, after swallowing and vomiting that dirty water she was dehydrated, and Hermione was certain that Lavender was as well. She considered leaving to find some fresh water, but realized too quickly that she wouldn't be able to find her way back to Lavender afterwards. And the two of them were better together than apart.

The cloak on her back was wet with frost, and the fabric frozen and bendable like wire. Hermione had wished she'd dressed more warmly, but her thin silk dress and light summer cloak were all she had to warm her. Since, considering hers and Malfoy's circumstances there hadn't been much time for packing.

Her breath was strangely visible in the surrounding darkness, like it had a light source of its own. And her necklace, it was warm, and not just because it was on her breast. Hermione could feel its warmth all the way down to her bones; it had a soft glow too. She wondered if these gems worked two ways. Could Malfoy contact her using his will? It didn't seem the case, as her necklace betrayed no real signs of being anything other than an accessory. Hermione took it off her neck and let the jewel dangle in the air. "Move" she whispered to it. It did nothing. "Please, show me where Malfoy is" the necklace swung to her right. Hermione's heart rose to her throat in anticipation...and then she realized that there was a breeze blowing, and that the necklace was not...appealing to her wishes. Hermione placed it back around her neck and frowned. What good was an expensive and rare magical item if it had no magical will of its own?

Lavender stirred next to her. "Hermione?" she croaked as she sat up awkwardly.

"Morning...I think" Hermione muttered looking up at the never-ending gloomy sky.

"I'm so hungry and thirsty" Lavender groaned. Her voice was grated and raw.

Hermione suddenly realized that she herself was hungry. It had been a long time since she'd eaten anything. She wanted food and water so badly, but the impossible ache in her body compelled her to not move. Her joints felt wooden, her limbs heavy, and her mind murky.

"Let's go" Lavender said pushing herself to her feet, her body swaying with the wind "we need to move, staying to long anywhere might give us away"

"What makes you think we're being searched for?" Hermione asked curiously as she willed her body to straighten.

"They want us dead Hermione. It's not likely we'll be of the radar until we _are_ dead" Lavender said with a wry smile, reminding Hermione of the same smile she had seen earlier in her dream.

* * *

Draco's ribs creaked with every breath he took. His hair was plastered with a cold sweat around his head, the same sweat that dripped into his eyes, causing him to blink furiously. He had escaped the deatheaters for the time being. But he was no better off, for he was utterly lost. His wand would do nothing but point North to him, which was of little help when he didn't know what lay North, or South, or East and West.

He hadn't expected this to happen. It wasn't a foolproof plan they'd concocted, but not one well thought enough for Voldemort to have been able to intervene. Who had tampered with the portkey? And how? Only someone with extreme power could have done such a thing, and aside from Voldemort himself, the other plausible person would not have ever done such a thing. When he and Hermione had landed on the grassy bank by that pond he was disorientated. And not surprising in the least that was. Before he could even think of what to do next he heard them, the deatheaters apparating, there were many cracks all at once, and his blood ran cold.

Granger was comatose, so like her to chose the most inopportune moment for a ladylike spell; he couldn't apparate them away without Voldemort's tracking spell revealing them, and it was unlikely he'd be able to stop all of the deatheaters advancing upon them, on foot was the only way to go. So Draco did the only thing he could, he rolled Granger into the pond, and hoped the cold water would revive her, while he ran and led the deatheaters away. Draco hoped now that they had lost his trail the deatheaters wouldn't be inclined to go back and retrace their steps. Not that it made much difference. At this point Granger was far away from there, or she was at the bottom of the pond, dead. Either was better than her still sitting there alive. If the deatheaters got their hands on her, there was nothing they were above doing.

Draco needed to find her as quickly as possible. While he still had his wand, Granger had nothing to facilitate her. The only and rather bulky issue was that he hadn't a clue as to how to find her. His ring did nothing; it didn't point him towards Granger at all. And his wand was confused at best when he attempted to locate her. A locating spell for a person was only so effective, and it mostly depended on how well the person casting the spell knew their surroundings. Otherwise the wand would just spew useless directions that changed on a magical whim. "_Expecto Patronum_" he said quietly, from his wand a silver blur spilled out, taking the form of a magpie. "Find Hermione Granger" he told it. The magpie dissolved into a light mist and flew from his sight. Draco sat down on the ground, and leant back against the nearest tree. His patronus was his last resort, either the patronus would find Granger, or the deatheaters would follow it back to him. There was nothing to do now but wait.

* * *

There was no end in sight, no end to the thick brush of trees they had been trekking through all morning. Lavender had slowed down greatly since the beginning, and Hermione had to grip trees on either side just to keep herself upright.

"Ah! I hear it!" Lavender said, her words cracking mid-vowel.

Hermione paused and listened. She could hear it too, the sound of rushing water. Well perhaps not so much rushing as it was trickling. But moving water nonetheless. Lavender moved past her, a renewed eagerness in her step, and a frantic look in her eyes. Hermione grabbed her arm tightly, stopping her in her tracks. "Don't forget yourself Lavender. Cautiously" she whispered worriedly. Where there was fresh water, there was life, and Hermione didn't want to risk walking into the wrong kind of life.

The two of them began to move slowly towards the sound, stopping every twenty meters to make sure they could still hear the water, and that the sound was indeed growing louder. The ground they walked on was hard, and not the soft soil one would expect near a water source. The trees began to widen, becoming further apart from one another. Hermione was anxious, while they had found a way out of the immediate woods, being in the open left them vulnerable for attack.

Lavender saw the stream first, she gasped in joy and ran loudly out of the trees towards the small brook that seemed to be running downwards. Hermione reached to stop her, but Lavender slipped out of her grasp, and out onto the open bank. Hermione followed vigilantly, her eyes looking all around for any sign of danger. Lavender dropped to her knees and began to scoop the water into her mouth.

Hermione felt it before she saw it.

There was utter stillness around them. Hermione had just realized the closer they had come to the stream the less small creatures they had heard or seen, not even an ant on a tree. She considered calling out to Lavender, but could not bring her voice to rise out from her mouth. There was a charm two feet in front of her. Likely a barrier charm and Lavender had crossed into it...and now somewhere, an alarm was ringing...

Across the stream and into the woods at the other end...she saw _him_. Hermione swayed on her feet and began to step backwards, bile rising up from her stomach to her throat, an involuntary reflex of fear. Lavender was still by the stream, splashing water on her face, but Hermione began to walk backwards faster, his eyes were on Lavender, there was no saving her. She saw Lavender turn and look in her direction questioningly, wondering why Hermione hadn't joined her. Hermione's mouth opened into a small 'o' but no sound came out.

And Lavender fell dead.

Hermione turned on her heel and ran back into the woods, deeper and deeper, not looking back to see if she was the next target, or if he had even realized she was also there. But Lavender had looked directly in her direction, inadvertently giving her away or at least causing reason for suspicion.

His red hair in the dark trees had shone like a torch. Even with his hood pulled on, she had been able to see it. How had Lavender not seen? How had Hermione not noticed the warped air of the charm earlier? He appeared so suddenly, her mind had reeled, Hermione had been frozen. But now she ran wildly and noisily back into the woods that would be her other death, all to escape him. She could handle anything but him.

And Lavender, poor Lavender...at least she had died without pain, without seeing it coming. But why had he _killed_ her? Hermione had thought that Lavender was still needed alive, why else had they not killed her earlier? It was impossible to tell on what system deatheaters were organized. And what was in store for her...Hermione could only hope if they caught up with her such a quick death would be her end too.

She stumbled over fallen trees and ripped her cloak on a broken branch. Her cuts and scratches stung in the cold air, but she couldn't stop, if she stopped, Hermione knew it would be permanent. Her lungs ached, and her throat felt raw. It was difficult to swallow or to take proper breaths of air. She felt her weight shift forward, and she was suddenly running headfirst, down a slope. Finally she wrapped her arms around a small thin tree and halted.

Her legs were quivering below her; the tree was the only thing keeping her on her feet at the moment. The cold wet air felt like needles down her throat and in her lungs, but Hermione inhaled it deeply. Her head snapped back so quickly Hermione felt the whiplash.

There was a patronus floating a few meters above her, its silvery light had startled her. Hermione's heart sank, she was dead. If the patronus saw her, it would only be a matter of time before the deatheater whom it belonged to would arrive. The patronus moved down towards her, finally noticing her. Hermione noted it was a bird...

But...she had heard deatheaters couldn't form patronus'...there weren't any known to her that could. Whose was it? Hermione couldn't recognize it as anybodies she knew. Perhaps it was from someone in the order. But who's could it be, hopefully an allies, and not the enemies. Hermione looked around nervously, but nobody was apparating, or walking towards her. It was just her and the bird. The bird then dissolved and disappeared. "No..."Hermione croaked. With the patronus around, it worked its own magic, asserting a calm and certainty in her, fighting away the gloom and darkness. Now that it was gone, Hermione's fear and worry crept back into her mind. Had he seen her? Was he following her then? So why wasn't she dead?

No, she knew it wasn't his patronus. She knew what his was...but it could have changed after...no. Hermione was certain it wasn't his. Her legs gave a final shake below her and Hermione slipped down onto the wet ground. Her arms were still wrapped around the tree for support, physical, emotional, any kind of support the reedy tree was prepared to offer her.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood, and she felt sweat drip out from her hair and down her face. Had she heard footsteps? The snap of a twig, the crunch of leaves, the rustle of a cloak?

There was noise all around her. The wind had picked up, and leaves were rustling along the ground. But Hermione could have sworn she heard footsteps. There was no one to be seen around her though. The only possibility was somebody directly on the slope behind her. Hermione looked around for somewhere to hide but she was a sitting target where she was.

"Quickly now"

Hermione exhaled in a swift breath as she felt herself being hoisted under her armpits to her feet. Unable to say anything coherent, she exhaled shakily again.

"Weasley isn't more than twenty meters away" Malfoy whispered in her ear, she could feel his dry and cracked lips against her skin. Hermione looked at him hungrily, to her half-closed eyes; he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even if this was a delusion, Hermione was accepting it gracefully if it made her death swifter. He was dirty, and sweaty, Hermione wanted to cry, to yell, to say anything, but her throat was too thick. "We're going to be apparating away...can you run?"he asked without looking at her, his eyes were fixed on the steep hill.

Hermione was certain she couldn't run an inch, but Malfoy wasn't waiting for an answer. "One...two..."

He was ripping her arm out of her socket as he pulled her along forcefully behind him. Hermione hadn't even registered the change in scenery. She concentrated on throwing one leaden foot in front of the other as Malfoy dragged her through what looked like wheat. All she saw was yellow grass, all around them, and a grey sky above. Where were they now? Or was Hermione gone already? Perhaps dead or asleep on the forest floor, she had no feeling in her body, but weight. She felt heavy, her limbs, her mind; her eyes couldn't even stay open. She stumbled and tripped, but the force only propelled her forward. She was absolutely stunned that she still remained on her feet. The field quickly opened up before them, into a grassy fenced area. But there was nothing in the fenced area. It seemed strange to Hermione to fence in...nothing.

She realized too late that Malfoy wasn't slowing down; they were heading straight for the wooden fence which was certainly a meter tall. Hermione wouldn't be able to jump it. A blast of hot air flew past her and disintegrated into nothing. Malfoy looked back, but he was looking behind her, and he looked sick. She didn't dare turn around to see what it was that he saw. Hermione began to slow down, they were only ten meters away from the fence, and how would she jump it? "I can't-" she croaked, but he didn't seem to hear her. Malfoy was airborne; he jumped nimbly over the fence and pulled Hermione straight into it. She tried to jump it, but her thighs barely reached the top, and she clipped it. She was going headfirst for the ground, and fast.

The impact of her body with the hard ground sent a reverberating ache through all of her bones. "Oh" she groaned pulling her knees to her chest.

"It's okay"

Hermione could hear Malfoy wheezing nearby, repeating himself like a madman. "It's okay, it's okay...it's okay" she opened her eyes and turned over to her other side. Malfoy was lying flat on his back right next to her, "its okay..." he exhaled.

If she could have, Hermione would have laughed at the irony of that statement.

"Okay? Sure, whatever you say" she coughed, trying to get back up, afraid of whatever was coming at them. Then Hermione realized that nothing was coming towards them. She looked out into the field of wheat, but she saw nothing. "What..."

"We're safe for now" Malfoy groaned as he sat up.

"What is this?" Hermione asked placing her hands on the fence.

"Oh, come on Granger; don't tell me you're losing your intelligence now too?" Malfoy sneered.

Hermione turned to glare at him, but her stare felt weak, she wasn't capable of anger right now, "I'm aware of the fidelius charm, my question is _what is this? _Just where did the deatheaters disappear to? Who's protector of this place, and how did you know about it, and _just what is going on_!" it seemed anger was never difficult to produce after all.

Malfoy stood and walked over to her, "The deatheaters fell into a displacement charm in front of the property, so I don't know where they ended up, and why don't you take a good look around you" he said coolly. Hermione looked behind her. Where there was nothing before, now a small cottage with a well and a storage house stood directly in the center of the circular fenced area.

"Whose is it?" she frowned, completely distrustful.

"This is where we were supposed to end up in the first place" he said running a hand through his dirty hair, and then looking thoroughly disgusted. Hermione gave him a glaring look to express her everlasting confusion.

"We've come to visit with your bff" he said rolling his eyes and walking away from her.


	14. Sway

Chapter Fourteen: Sway

**A\N**: I don't own Harry Potter. Enjoy the chapter, and please leave comments!

* * *

She licked her lips and stood shakily, her feet buckling below her. Hermione shook leaves and grass off her robes, but it made little differences to the streaks of mud all over the front or to the hem which was dragging on the ground. Her eyes flitted all around her, still uncertain of Malfoy's claim that they were now safe.

"Come on then" he muttered beginning to walk away.

Hermione followed a few meters behind him. The ground was sloping down, and Hermione realized whatever was fenced in was situated at the bottom of this hill. Malfoy's body began to comically melt as he continued forward. Hermione sped up behind him.

There was a very distinct ledge that had not been noticeable from far back. Steep stone steps led down to a little cottage at the bottom, a lake behind it. It reminded her of path to Hagrid's cottage. The same stone path she, Harry, and he would skip down at least once a week to see Hagrid. Fang would bark at their arrival, and whatever creature of the week Hagrid was breeding would begin to cause a commotion. Hermione frowned sadly and began to go down after Malfoy who had just about reached the house. Now that she sure there was no immediate danger, Hermione could feel every ache on her body. There were scratches on her face and hands, many bruises, and what she was sure was a sprained rib or two. It hurt just to breath, and her lips were dry and chapped. She was dehydrated and her muscles could feel it, they creaked and strained just to move.

"If you don't hurry up, I'm not going to save any of the food for you" Malfoy called vociferously, much to Hermione's annoyance.

"Not backward at coming forward are you" she mumbled jumping the last few steps and rushing into the house after him.

It looked much larger from the inside than out. Likely a magical enchantment of Harry's doing. The inside, though spacious, was sparse, also Harry's doing. The kitchen was clean, and empty, a small dining table with four chairs, and a couple of couches around the hearth were all Hermione could see. No books, no radio, no lamp, no armoires or carpets, or side tables, or curtains, very Harry. She followed Malfoy inside and closed the door behind them.

"Are you so sure there is even food in this house?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Better be. Goddamn told Potter a week ago, if there isn't, I'll eradicate him with my bare hands" Malfoy muttered under his breath, heading towards the refrigerator.

Hermione noticed a set of stairs to her right. The house hadn't appeared to be two stories from the outside. She took a glance at Malfoy, who was exploring the contents of the icebox and decided to leave him and venture upstairs.

* * *

Upstairs, there was one narrow hallway with four doors. The first proved to be a large bath, which Hermione would sharpish revisit. The second and third rooms were bedrooms, the ones she and Malfoy would likely be using. The fourth room was locked, and Hermione didn't investigate it. She _couldn't_ anyway, not without a wand. She turned back to the second room, which she decided was fit for her. There was a desk, and a few books stacked on it. They called to her. Hermione opened the wardrobe and found Harry had left some clothing for her. Nothing extravagant, but greatly appreciated. Hermione grabbed the clean underwear and clothing hungrily, she wanted to get out of the filthy rags she was in. She smiled looking at the tags on the jeans and shirts, all new, all muggle brands.

Malfoy was still loudly rummaging downstairs, so Hermione took over the bath first. She locked the door behind her, though she knew it wouldn't keep Malfoy out if he wanted in. She hoped simple decency would take care of that. The tub was very large, and Hermione immediately set to filling it. The steam from the hot water settled in her skin, relaxing her already.

She opened the drawers in the sink, looking for a shampoo, or anything. Harry must have been in bits, because the bath was so poorly stocked, an abandoned shack would have had more useful things. All Hermione could find was an unwrapped body soap smelling of verbena, and a men's razor, also new. "Mine, and mine" she muttered unwrapping the items. Malfoy could shave with his wand, but she was getting uncomfortably prickly. It had never before occurred to Hermione how dependant she had become on her magic. Hermione had used her wand for everything, including fixing hairstyles, steaming her robes, removing body hair, curling her lashes, cracking eggs, and boiling water. And without her wand, which was lost or broken somewhere far away, she felt very lonely. Her magical prowess must have been dwindling by the day without practice.

Hermione stripped off her dirty robes and kicked them into a corner; since there was no hamper in the bathroom. She would throw them out later; the robes were so ruined, it would be impossible to mend them. Turning off the tap she tested the searing water. Deciding it wouldn't burn too much Hermione cautiously slipped into the tub. It was blissful. The water was hot enough to seep through her skin and melt her muscles and bones into warm comfort. Her rib still ached, but it felt more bearable at the moment. Hermione couldn't even figure out why her ribs ached, she couldn't recall hurting herself.

With the dirt streaks gone and her hair clean, though feeling a little unlike human hair due to the soap, Hermione began to feel healthier by the second. Her body was bruised severely, and her hands and face had more scratches than she could have seen under the mud and dirt but they didn't pain her.

After only a few minutes, the water had become grimy. Hermione drained it and then waited tolerantly, while freezing, for the tub to refill. She wondered how much hot water there was, and whether it operated by boiler or magic. Of course, she didn't actually care; Malfoy could bathe just fine in cold water. Hermione carefully shaved, trying not to nick herself, and then seeing that there was little left to enjoy in the water she got out. Hermione grabbed the only clean towel sitting on the loo seat and wiped herself down. She then threw it down on top of her dirty cloths. In the mirror Hermione double-checked her hair for twigs or grime that the soap had not washed out, but it generally looked better than before.

Not having a comb she carelessly ran her fingers through her hair, not bothering herself with it too much. There was nobody to impress here.

"All done" she said, trying to smile at her reflection. It came out more like a grimace. She sighed and dressed quickly.

Hermione wasn't hungry, and she didn't particularly feel like being in Malfoy's company, so she returned to her room. The books stacked on her desk were clearly chosen by Harry personally. _Hogwarts a History, Deciphering Ancient Runes_, and _Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart were only a few of the selected readings. Hermione picked up _Holidays with Hags_ and flipped through it. It looked like a much loved edition, every single page having been dog-eared at one point. Hermione sat on the bed and giggled, looking at Lockhart's picture on the back, smiling and winking at her. The stupid git, he had been the most inept professor ever, and an unbelievably bad person. But it made Hermione smile to remember all of the idiocy they had survived in their second year, a third of which she had been absent. She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, holding Gilderoy Lockhart close to her chest. She wondered where Lockhart was now, and if he was even alive. St. Mungo's had been taken over by deatheaters a long time ago. Many of the patients and staff killed coldly. Only a few left to care for the deatheaters injuries.

The sky outside her window was a grey sheet. Not even a sliver of blue sky or white cloud was visible. The lake view her room offered was more depressing than beautiful. The lake itself was also still and grey, and very vast. Hermione couldn't see what lay on the other end. Where was she? It seemed to her that they were back in England, but she couldn't place where. Not that it mattered much to her anyway. It meant nothing for Hermione to know her location when she couldn't willingly travel anywhere. And especially since Malfoy was having issues of his own now, it put even more pressure on her. Should she be separated from him, she was dead. At least when Malfoy was respected in the deatheater circle she had some sense of safety in being his property, now that he was...whatever he was...it wasn't the same.

And where was Harry right now? Had he even realized that she and Malfoy had not made it on time? Hermione wondered if he was safe wherever he was. She would have given anything to have had Harry sitting next to her right now. She needed him more than she ever let on to Malfoy or Harry himself. With Harry things felt like they could be okay, as if time would reverse and suddenly they'd be planning again where to look for horcruxes, or watching..._him_...have a fit when the radio lost its signal. A particularly loud clang from downstairs startled her and her ears prickled.

"I've made dinner if you'd like to eat. It'll be the best food you've had in months!" Malfoy yelled up the stairs, his voice laced with sarcasm. Clearly the meal had not gone the way he wanted.

"Lick arse" Hermione grumbled sitting up; she put down her book and headed to the kitchen regardless. Her stomach was just beginning to function again, and food would be welcome, but the standard of food that Malfoy could create was questionable. She wasn't sure she was ready to succumb to food poisoning so soon after this ordeal.

Downstairs Malfoy had set the table, meaning that there were two plates with fried eggs and a measly portion of ham waiting sitting there. "Wow" Hermione murmured "How extravagant. Never seen a meal so beautiful. You put the Japanese to shame".

"Shut it and sit" Malfoy said sitting heavily in his chair, the legs creaked. Hermione looked at him, but didn't push her luck. He had thrown off his dirty robes and was wearing his no less grimy pants and an undershirt. He looked like a slightly less offensive mobster. Hermione imagined him to have a gun on his belt.

She sat down looking at the poorly made attempt at sunny-side-up eggs on her likely unwashed-before-used plate. She sighed and picked up her fork, it was what it was. And it was still food.

"It's not as bad as it looks. If you consider I've only cooked twice, not as good as anything _you_ could probably make though" Malfoy mumbled, his mouth full of ham.

"Bloody sycophant" Hermione frowned, then added "The ham is cold in the middle"

Malfoy glared at her. Hermione quickly looked back at her plate, not really feeling up to a fight at the moment.

"You look...clean" Malfoy said with a sneer; either a poorly veiled insult, or a just as insulting compliment.

"Thanks" Hermione replied tersely. She tried a bit of egg. Salty.

What she wanted to ask was where Harry was. But Hermione knew better than to ask such..._impertinent_ questions. Malfoy wasn't above smacking her upside the head, and another injury wouldn't help her overall condition. She also wanted to know what exactly occurred during their lovely vacation. Why had werewolves been sent after them and what had Malfoy done to Voldemort to make him so totally hacked off?

She ate quickly and silently, all of the extra salt on those eggs wasn't going to recover her dehydration. She cleared her throat and stood, Malfoy was still eating; "I'll put the kettle on" she said a little dryly, her tongue felt funny from the saltiness.

"I don't suppose there's any parkin or scones in those cupboards for afters?" Malfoy wondered out loud.

"Why don't you transfigure, or make some?" Hermione muttered, on her toes, attempting to reach the tea on the highest shelf in the cupboard.

"Granger, you can't-"

"I know food is one of the five principal items that cannot be created out of nothing! I was being sarcastic" she said in annoyance. Her fingers brushed the tea tin, pushing it further back on the shelf. Hermione put her knee on the counter; she pulled herself up slowly and straightened out. Now the tin was at eye level, she quickly snatched it.

"You could have asked me to get it for you" Malfoy pondered, he must have been smirking behind her. She could feel it.

"I do quite all right" Hermione replied climbing down off the counter "You should bathe, you smell strange" she added for insult. She was not entirely sure whether he smelt of anything at all, but it would unquestionably aggravate Malfoy to think he did.

"I'm about to. Also, I take my tea white with two. Did you get that Granger?"

"Crystal" Hermione said rolling her eyes.

She could hear him walking away, and upstairs. He'd left his plate on the table. And he'd barely touched the eggs. Hermione scoffed and placed it in the sink. She turned the tap on and waited for the water to run cold before placing it on the gas hob. There was apparently electricity in this cottage, how Harry had managed that, Hermione couldn't fathom. The only real possibility was that this house had been here for a long time; perhaps it was even a muggles home before Harry began to use it. Whatever happened to the muggles?

In the corner, beside the hearth an old jukebox-like radio stood. Hermione wondered whether it worked, or if it was a kitsch artefact of olden times that came with the cottage. She turned away and continued to make tea. Hermione opened all the cupboards, but was unable to find a tea infuser for the loose tea Harry had _kindly_ supplied. She looked around, attempting to make do. If she had her wand, this wouldn't be an issue. If she had her wand she could make Malfoy do the work. Hermione took some kitchen towel sitting by the sink and swaddled a teaspoon of tea in it, dropping it into each cup. Hopefully it would work well enough.

She walked across the room to the radio, unable to stop wondering about its working condition. It didn't appear to be plugged into anything at all but she pressed the large green unlabeled button all the same. The lights flickered on its display, the needle moving left and right across the numbers, looking for a station. Bits of music and talk flittered though the speakers.

_..."Well out of order Tom!"_

"_And Manchester finds themselves out in the first prelim-"_

"_-unable to help us. The president has declared a state of emergency, and advises his people not to travel-"_

"_-death tolls continue to rise throughout Britain..."_

"_-the resistance is failing. Shacklebolt is dead. There are no known members of the-"_

The kettle began to whistle. Hermione slammed the green button again with her palm. The radio flickered and stopped making noise, she had heard more than enough. Even while she was swathed in her little bubble where the outside world was blacked out, it still kept spinning. People were playing sports, arguing, and still dying. From what she had heard it seemed like the American government, magical or otherwise had given up on Britain. The fools didn't realize they weren't safe either. Once Voldemort grew tired of this side of the ocean, he would expand his horizons. And that last snippet...

It sounded like a wizard station. It must have been, there no point in cushioning the blow with denial. They declared Shacklebolt dead, clearly. Hermione hadn't seen Shacklebolt since that attack on the burrow. She hadn't even known he had been alive, much less the last of the resistance. And now he was dead too. She found herself wondering if she was the last living member of the order on the opposing side. Regardless of how pathetic her current oppositional powers were. What point was there to her existence if she couldn't do the things that made her happy, her calling, her work, whatever? What was she doing then? Being Malfoy's pet? Sitting on eggs waiting for Harry to bring her good news that would surely never come? Or waiting for...Ron, to finally come and off her? None of these options appealed to her, if she had the option at all.

How simple it would have been to take her own life. Pull off the stupid necklace Malfoy had given her, her last silly link with another human being, and to have drowned herself in the tub. Malfoy's protective spells had weakened greatly in the last few days, though Hermione hadn't made mention to this. She could feel his hold over her was very weak, like a thin sheet over her movements. A little push and pull and she could fully break his enchantment. She could run out the protection of the fidelius charm and into the arms of the first deatheater she saw. And hope for a quick painless death. Then she wouldn't be locked with all of the memories, and all of the responsibility of millions, all left to her, and nothing she could do.

Psychiatrists would have called it survivor guilt. Hermione had read about it in war history books. It seemed silly to her then, but meant everything now. All of her close friends and family dead, only she was left, it didn't seem fair. And instead of avenging their deaths, she lived one day at a time, the days barely changing. But the days changed for others. Malfoy was up to something, and he was involved with Harry. Harry was apparently attempting to finally kill Voldemort, though his attempt had been going almost six years strong now. Hermione had never asked Harry whether Voldemort had realized that five of his horcruxes had been destroyed. Perhaps if he had realized he would have just killed Harry, instead of giving him the ultimatum. Harry wouldn't have told her anyway.

All Hermione could do was suppose, ponder, deliberate on things she knew nothing about.

The kettle's whistle came to a crescendo. Hermione pulled it off the hob and poured the water into the two cups. She turned off the knob, and set the kettle on the cold counter. In the fridge Hermione was surprised to find milk, though not as surprised as she was to realize it hadn't expired. She poured a bit in Malfoy's cup and dropped two cubes of sugar in. She took her tea neat.

* * *

Deciding that she neither needed nor wanted Malfoy's company, she took her tea upstairs to her new room. Not as luxurious as the room she had been given in the Malfoy mansion, but homier. Hermione closed the door behind her set the tea on the desk then lay down on the bed. After sleeping on a cold wet ground, the bed felt like heaven. The wool blanket was rough on her bare arms, but was comparatively like silk.

The pipes creaked loudly, and the water stopped running through the walls. Malfoy was done with his bath.

Hermione turned on her side and stared at the cerulean paint and pretty wainscoting on the walls. Somebody had put a lot of love into this home. She could feel the tears roll across the bridge of her nose and pool on the pillow. The absurd reason for her crying escaped her. But it may have been all a combination of things; her tiredness, the ache in her body and heart, the unbearable realization of how useless she was, and the frustration of having to live in her new place, ignorant and thrown about.

The door to Malfoy's room slammed shut loudly, Hermione's cup rattled in its saucer. She could hear him opening the cupboards and the drawers on his desk. Something heavy dropped on the floor. Hermione remarked all of these happenings like that of a sleeping narrator. Every sound was muffled, and surreal. For all she could recognize, she was alone on this bed. Not even here perhaps, somewhere far away and warm and friendly. Ginny was sitting next to her reading another penny dreadful. A plate of pie propped on her ridiculously large stomach. Somewhere farther away, maybe Ron and Harry were playing Quidditch with the other Weasley's. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, and the cool breeze that swept by. Perhaps a little too cool, it made her shiver violently.

A particularly loud bang woke Hermione from her reverie. And returned all of the pain in her body she had just forgotten.

She sat up and looked behind her, facing Malfoy's room. There was a crack running up from the border of the white wainscoting across the wall. It was at least fifteen centimetre's long. Hermione stood and traced the crack with her fingers, a bit of the paint chipped off and fell to the floor. Had he thrown something at the wall? Was he livid enough to have punched it?

Hermione left her room, she stood in front of Malfoy's door, fist raised, possibly to knock, but more likely not. What would she even say to him? _Why was he making such a ruckus now?_ _Why was he_ _such an arse? Why didn't he just bloody tell her what was going on?_

Hermione lowered her hand and turned away. She didn't even care anymore.


	15. Two Against One

**Chapter Fifteen: Two Against One**

**A/N:** I don't own Harry Potter. Please review, let me know if you like the progression, and if I should speed up the plot. Also, I'm leaving in a few days for a month long vacation where I likely won't have internet access, so there may not be many updates in the next little while. Sorry!

* * *

"Uh-uh-uh" Hermione juddered awake. She looked left and right then slowly sat up in bed. Something had woken her, but there was no sound now.

Down her back and between her breasts a cold trail of sweat clung to her skin. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, feeling the sticky sweat running down her temples. Nothing moved in the house, but Hermione could not lie back down. She couldn't remember what she had been dreaming, but it was not the dream that disturbed her, Hermione was certain she had heard a bang.

Swinging her feet out of the bed, she moved to the window and peered out into the murky night. She could see nothing outside. The moon was well hidden behind clouds, and there was no other light source. Frowning Hermione walked to her right wall and pressed her ear against it. No sound came from Malfoy's room.

Hermione sat back down on the bed, fully alert, and unable to slow her beating heart. She was acutely aware of how loud her swallowing was, and that she couldn't find a comfortable place for her tongue in her mouth. Her ears buzzed with the expansive silence, further putting her in alert mode.

She wouldn't feel better until she could convince herself that it had been nothing, just an overreaction. Quickly she slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the room. Gently, Hermione close the door behind her. Malfoy's door was shut.

Hermione walked past it and headed down the stairs. She had no wand to illuminate her way, but she was too afraid to turn on the lights. Pressed against the wall, she squinted as her eyes adjusted to the blackness of the main floor. All of the same familiar shapes surrounded her. Nothing looked strange.

Her hand crept along the wall searching for the light switch. The bright burn of the fluorescent light startled her. But nothing jumped out from the dark. Hermione glanced at the front door; it was closed, as were all the windows.

Perhaps she had just dreamt it. Hermione was so skittish these days it wouldn't have been peculiar that she now had psychological issues. Especially since Malfoy was being as bizarre as he was lately, it only reflected negatively on Hermione. If he wasn't in control, then what was happening?

She flicked the light off and went back upstairs begrudgingly, obnoxiously walking hard, so she could wake Malfoy. Closing the door behind her, Hermione took another look out the window, just in case something had changed, but it all remained the same.

There was no way she'd be able to fall asleep now. She was too awake. Yet, she didn't want to be walking about the house uselessly. Knowing her luck, Malfoy would probably think she was an intruder and curse her. So Hermione remained very still in her bed.

She stared at the blackness of the ceiling. Her eyes imagined bursts of colour, like fireworks in the darkness. The silence was overwhelming, and threw her back into annoyed thoughts. When would Harry show up to see her? When would he come with good news? These thoughts plagued her. Harry must have known they had arrived, and Harry likely knew exactly what was occurring, or so she hoped. Hermione knew nothing, though she assumed that Malfoy was not on the best of terms with his comrades. Having werewolves sent after you was a good indicator that your chief was vexed. But what did it mean for her? Did it change anything for Hermione at all? No, in a way in didn't. Hermione was still as weak and useless as before, regardless of Malfoy's situation. She was always a hairbreadth's away from death at whoevers hands. Not that there was much to living the life she had.

Her eyes began to close, and Hermione knew if she was lucky, she might get another couple hours of sleep. Which she needed if she wanted to avoid a serious illness.

Her body jerked under the sheets. This time Hermione was certain she had heard something. She leapt out of bed quickly and looked outside. It was a soft, muffled thud, as though someone had place a bag on the ground, or knocked. But she hadn't heard the door open; though it was doubtful she even would from upstairs.

Hermione threw her door open tiptoed to Malfoy's room. She knocked softly, and then entered. "Malfoy" she hissed rushing to his bed, despite the fact she might have smacked for the late night waking. "Get up, someone is in the house. Malfoy!"

He wasn't in the bed.

Her mouth fell open as she looked at the tangled sheets and vertical pillow. Where was he? Panic settled into her stomach, what was she going to do now? She had no wand, not even a rifle to protect herself. Hermione looked around the room frantically for a weapon of any kind. In the corner a beaters bat sat propped on a stand, clearly a collectible of Harry's, but for now it would do. She took it uncertainly in her hands, not used to the surprising weight, and headed downstairs.

Hermione kept the bat in front of her, thinking it would at least deflect the first spell that came at her, though it wouldn't be of any use after it was blown to bits. Downstairs nothing had changed. Hermione turned on the lights. There was nobody.

Was it possible that wild animals made the noises she had been hearing? Hermione didn't even know if animals were impervious to the fidelius charm, but she doubted it. Likely, there was still a barrier. Besides, Hermione hadn't heard a single bird or insect all day here.

Another noise, from the door. Much softer, nothing more than a click. Hermione looked at the door uncertainly. It was a fifty-fifty chance for her. Either there was nothing, or there was something, and it would kill her. But, if whoever was out there had already entered the fidelius charms boundaries; the door would not be holding him back. The door was the easiest barrier to break.

The door, unfortunately, was solid oak, with naught a pane of glass or peephole. Hermione took a deep breath and threw the door open. The light from the house shone outwards a meter into the dark, but illuminated nothing. Hermione stepped closer to the threshold, still holding the bat in front, and looked out.

"Granger"

Hermione stiffened. "Malfoy?" she said uncertainly, rooted to her spot, wary of any traps.

"Granger"

"I can't see you, where…" Hermione peered further out, but was too afraid to leave the safety of the house. She had heard him, or what she assumed was Malfoy, but he was further than the light could reach. Stepping over the doorway and onto the porch Hermione called again, "Malfoy?"

"Here" came the weak reply. It was further out, and slightly to the left. Hermione walked to the edge of the porch. Then down the steps, one at a time. Still no sight of him. No tall silhouette in the darkness stood out to her. Hermione felt gravel under her feet now, the light from the house had disappeared, she was too far from it.

A wheeze came from the right. Hermione blindly walked out, quickening her pace. "AHH!" she shrieked stumbling forward, the bat flew from her hands, landing further away with a dull thud. "Malfoy!"

Hermione crawled backwards feeling the ground for the lump she had stepped on. He groaned; Hermione recoiled grabbing the front of her shirt. "What…"

"Inside…help me inside" he whispered hoarsely. Hermione felt frantically for his head, then his arms. She tried to pull him up. He moaned loudly.

"What happened, are you hurt?" she asked, feeling him slip from her arms back to the ground.

"My legs" he gasped. Of course, what a stupid question. If he were well, he wouldn't be lying on the ground.

Hermione pulled him up again, "throw your arms over my neck" she groaned under his weight. She would never be able to pick him up; she would just have to drag him back to the house.

"You heard me…I was running out of rocks within reach, thought I'd die out here…though I might still" he wheezed, then coughed.

Hermione didn't reply. Her mind was reeling, and her body was pumping with adrenaline as she took one step after another, closer and closer to the porch. Reaching the stairs, she knew this would be the most difficult part. "One" she groaned, throwing her right foot on the step, trying to shift her weight completely, "Two…three…four…f-five" Gasping loudly Hermione staggered forward to the door, throwing out her hand onto the doorframe, to stop herself from falling. She continued moving into the house, and towards the sitting area. She didn't know if she could lay him on the couch, it would have to be the ground. Hermione dropped to her knees. Malfoy moaned again. Taking his hands she shifted him off her back and onto the floor.

"Oh…" she gasped finally seeing him. His face was swollen beyond recognition, filthy, bloody…his legs? Hermione looked further down his body, and in revulsion turned away. His khaki pants were completely red below the thighs.

"Your wand?" Hermione asked leaning over, inches from his face.

"Outside" he exhaled.

She stood shakily, looking around for a lamp, or anything. Then realizing there wasn't time to search for one. She needed Malfoy's wand now. Hermione stumbled out the door and down the steps, clumsily throwing herself in the approximate area where she had found Malfoy. On her hands and knees she scoured the ground looking for his wand. The gravel and rocks in the grass cut at her fingers and knees. "Wand, wand" she mumbled tearfully, trying to forget the scene inside.

"Oh" she sobbed grabbing something wooden. Then cried in frustration, throwing the beaters bat further away. "Where is it…" Hermione cried, using all her limbs to feel the ground. "Bloody…wand!" She fumbled to her feet, holding the found wand tightly, and ran back inside, throwing the door shut behind her.

Magic coursed through her veins, it had almost been a year since Hermione had held a wand in her fingers, and she could feel the magic of it.

Malfoy had turned white, and a slick pool of blood surrounded him. Hermione threw herself down next to his legs, knowing it was the greatest area of damage. She quickly, ripped his pant legs with the wand. Her mind was racing quicker than her reflexes. Thankfully her abilities had not grown dull, she needed them now. "_Scourgify_" she whispered tearfully, removing the ever rushing blood from his limbs. Underneath the blood, his legs were a mess. Cuts, deep gashes, strange protrusions that Hermione were sure were broken bones. Malfoy was completely silent now. This was deatheaters work through and through. The cuts were too clean, the breaks too even, for anything other than a magical injury. Hermione couldn't bear to think what Malfoy would look like had he run into their carnivorous friends.

"_Brackium Emendo_" Hermione muttered waving the wand over Malfoy's legs. He groaned loudly, his hands curling into fists. Again Hermione repeated the spell, carefully watching the bones in his legs shift, hopefully to the correct places.

Hermione jumped to her feet running to the kitchen and throwing open the cupboards carelessly, looking for the familiar purple potion that would heal the cuts. They were too deep for her to permanently close with a spell. "Bloody hell Harry" she cried, "where are your emergency supplies?" She pulled open a drawer, finding rat-tails and herbavora; meaning there had to be more…

"Oho" she cried throwing open the next cupboard. Hermione's fingers flew towards the small bottle with the brown liquid. "Moondew" she whispered grabbing at the bag filled with white dried flowers. Hermione rushed back over to Malfoy, and shakily uncorked the dittany. Seemed like Harry realized the usefulness of this little plant after all. She quickly poured it over Malfoy's largest wounds. Quickly, the cuts sizzled and smoked, closing over. Relieved that the worst was over, Hermione cut open his shirt, checking for more wounds. Burns and small cuts covered his arms and chest. Hermione applied dittany to the worst, and pressed the Moondew petals against the lesser abrasions. Her hands were shaking and covered in dirt and blood.

"Episkey" she muttered, fixing his split lip. Hermione looked over Malfoy carefully. Her hands moved across his face, checking for broken bones, then moved down his arms. She repaired a damaged finger and moved on to his chest. Hermione was no doctor, but she had planned on becoming a healer one day. And so, had more knowledge than most on treating wounds. Gently, she pressed against his ribs, but found none that were broken. Lastly, she ran her hands along his legs, making sure that all the bones were in the right place. As long as Malfoy hadn't sustained any spinal damage, tomorrow he may be able to totter around. If…if he had injured his spine, Hermione wasn't certain she had the necessary ingredients here to heal it. That would have required Mungo's, which was also no longer in operation.

With a sigh she leant back against the sofa. What had he done? Who had done…no, Hermione knew who had done this to him. So that meant the situation was dire for them both. What had Malfoy even been doing, leaving in the middle of the night? Had he really been so foolish to enter somewhere dangerous? Had he gone to appeal to Voldemort? If so, he was a greater fool than Hermione credited him. And how had he managed to return alive?

It had been him, throwing stones at the door and walls. Hermione tried not to consider what the situation would have been if she had ignored the sounds. It would have proved very depressing. She heaved herself up and walked over to the kitchen sink. Hermione washed her hands well, and then washed the tears off her face, composing herself. She walked back to the sitting room, picking up the discarded wand. Hermione looked at the elm wand. It worked well enough for her. She could leave now; she could have left before too. She had no loyalty to Malfoy. Hermione could leave now with the wand and never look back.

She laughed desolately at the thought. If only there was somewhere to go. But what would Hermione do with her newfound freedom? All she could do was find another hole to hide in, one that wouldn't be as secure as where she was now. If she left, she would certainly lose all contact with Harry, and have even less hope in ever defeating Voldemort. It was pointless to even entertain the idea; it only made her dejected.

Gently she levitated Malfoy, moving him up the stairs, and into his room. After placing him on the bed, Hermione removed his soiled cloths and threw them in the corner. She threw the comforter over him and then sighed deeply. She couldn't leave him until she was sure the dittany had taken effect. If he got an infection now, it would kill him quicker than the previous injuries. Hermione pulled over the chair from the desk.

A giant missing piece of plaster from the wall caught her eye. He had thrown something at the wall, the wooden siding was visible, and large cracks ran from it in all directions. What had happened last night that had caused him such frustration, and forced him to do something so rash? A small gleam of gold caught her eyes, "Verity" Hermione whispered picking up the mirror. "You alright?" she asked opening the clasp. The glass had a small crack running through the middle.

"Take more than a little beating to get rid of me" Verity replied in it's silky French accent.

"Malfoy threw you? Why?" Hermione frowned, wiping grime off the glass.

"I suppose he didn't like the answer to his question"

"What was the question?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Can't tell you love. Rules of the profession"

"Fair enough" she muttered closing the mirror and setting it down on Malfoy's table.

Hermione sat down on the wooden chair and drew her knees to her chest, and held the wand tightly in her hand. She felt safer with the wooden stick in her hand, and it comforted her to know she was now able if something else should occur.

"I'm alright," Malfoy mumbled, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"Yeah, you're fine" Hermione whispered, wiping her eyes to keep herself awake. She sniffled and shook her head in disbelief. It was just all a little too much, in such a short time. Hermione barely had enough time to process one event, before the next overwhelmed her. "You're so stupid" she said tearfully and spitefully, her anger finally rolling in.

* * *

"Sorry" Draco moaned.

"Sorry?" Granger repeated incredulously. "Yeah, me too. Sorry about it all"

He turned to look at her, and smiled weakly, "Would be nice if it was all different". She looked angry, and tired. He couldn't blame her. He was shocked she had even heard him this late in the night. Draco couldn't believe that he had managed to return her alive. The situation had been very grim for him only an hour earlier.

Granger scoffed, "What, if you and I were different? If I was a healer? If you weren't a deatheater? If Harry wasn't Voldemort's pet…If Ron…"

"That too" he agreed, turning to look at the ceiling, unable to keep eye contact.

"Why did you do it?" she asked softly.

Draco frowned, considering how much to tell Granger. What was the right amount of truth "I thought I could convince him I hadn't betrayed him…"

"No" she corrected, "Why did you become a deatheater at all? I know we all had our differences. And I know you were pressured. But, you aren't nearly malicious enough…you're an awful jerk, but Harry always knew you'd never have killed Dumbledore. If there'd been more time, you would have put your wand away. And I'm still here, and relatively in one piece…which I don't think has very much to do with any deal you made with Harry"

His eyes widened in surprise, this conversation was taking an interesting, and dangerous turn for the both of them "Does it matter? Things are the way they are for a reason" he replied, "life has a grand plan, and we just play our parts, you and I and everyone else"

* * *

"What's your part?"

Malfoy looked at her again. Hermione stiffened under his gaze; suddenly afraid she had gone too far. But, he said nothing, he just looked at her. "My part, is about to be written out, pretty soon. I think the playwright changed his mind about my character"

"What do you mean?" Hermione sulked. She slipped off the chair and knelt closer to the bed, inches from his face. Hermione looked at Malfoy carefully. His eyes were half closed; heavy lidded from fatigue, and a dark shadow was growing across the right of his temple, creeping down from his matted hair. "Can't we skip the analogies, can't you tell me what's happening. What about my part? What am I playing?"

"Just enjoy your ignorance for a while longer. It won't be much more before it all goes to bits anyway…especially considering…"

"You won't tell me," Hermione said in disappointment. "You and Harry keep these things from me like I'm a stupid child. I can't trust you, nor him…what am I supposed to do, I'm wasting my time"

"That would be a pleasant thing in another reality" he grinned painfully, stretching his swollen lips over his teeth. Hermione's face fell, frustration overtook her again, and she succumbed to tears. She dropped her head into her arms.

"Don't worry too much"

"Don't worry? I suppose you never got a good look at yourself tonight" Hermione said sadly.

"Small matters, I did it to myself, I'm just lucky you aren't flighty enough to have taken my wand and ran" Malfoy said honestly.

Hermione stiffened, wondering if he'd read her mind. "But you didn't do this, the deatheaters did"

"No Granger. In this game, it's always two against one" Malfoy sighed.


	16. Standing Joke of the Year

Chapter 16: Standing Joke of the Year

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning with an incredible ache between her shoulder blades, running like a fire to her tailbone. The sun beat through the window, illuminating the whole room, and making it clear to her it was mid-day. She groaned, trying to straighten herself out slowly, without tumbling out of the chair. Malfoy was still in bed, of course, only his blonde head visible under the sheets. Hermione hadn't really expected him to be anywhere else. Today it would be confirmed how good her magical abilities really were. She slipped out of the chair and knelt beside the bed, she pulled the duvet down from his face. As horrible as his face was last night… it was considerably worse this morning. But these were all abrasions she didn't have time to deal with initially, not life threatening, just ugly. Hermione picked up his wand from where she'd dropped it on the floor. She'd likely slept clutching it tightly between her fingers.

"Ah" Hermione gasped in surprise as Malfoy grabbed her wrist. He opened his eyes slowly, the left barely widening.

"Are you trying to do me in Granger?" he croaked, staring hard, but looking comical to Hermione.

She scoffed in reply, "if that was my plan, I wouldn't have bothered keeping you alive in the first place" Hermione said, and pulled her hand from his grasp and holding tight to the wand "I'm not cruel, I'm efficient".

"I know, I was just ribbing" Malfoy replied not sounding very jokey at all, "But what are you planning to do with the wand pointed right at my face?"

"I know you prize your handsome looks above everything else in this world, so I'm doing you a favor by trying to save them" Hermione muttered, she poked his fat lip with the wand. He gasped in pain, but the lip began to shrink immediately.

"I doubt my looks would get my anywhere now" he muttered despondently.

"It's not that bad" she said looking at his face. Hermione closed the small cuts on his face easily only faint pink marks remaining.

"Oh, it's bad" he said cryptically.

Hermione ignored this comment; instead she managed to secure the rather large head wound, which had still been bleeding. It closed over barely, the skin just connecting. Hermione realized it would leave a scar, but it was all she could do, and she hardly considered that important at the moment. She also found it humorous that he and Harry had something in common now.

"Hey!" Malfoy protested as Hermione ripped the sheets off him.

"Shut it" she said throwing them on the floor. He was looking for something which to cover himself with. "I've seen it all before Malfoy, save your energy" she sighed running her hand down his right leg. "Can you bend it?"

Hermione pushed his calf up, bending his leg at the knee. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's just rigid" he replied.

It seemed to be okay. She moved to the left. This leg was a little stiffer, but Hermione thought it looked pretty good considering the situation. There were sickening bruises and lumps on his legs where bones had been broken, and where some had broken through the skin. "I'll be right back" Hermione frowned, suddenly feeling nauseated as she was reminded of the sight last night. She needed to clean up all of the blood, if not for his sake, then hers. Hermione couldn't bear to look at it, and it had smudged all over the sheets.

* * *

In the washroom she found a plastic basin that Harry had probably used to wash his cloths. Though the idea of Harry washing his own cloths seemed ridiculous to Hermione. She filled it with warm water and grabbed a small clean face towel.

She held the towel in her hand gently, feeling the softness, and an ache overtook her limbs, her heart tightening painfully in her chest. On the bottom left hand corner, there was small flower embroidery, _"H & G" _Hermione whispered.

This was one of many in a large set she had gifted for Ginny's wedding. Over thirty towels Hermione had hand embroidered, and ten she'd left plain, telling Ginny she would embroider them with the children's names when they finally arrived. Back then Ginny had jokingly told Hermione she should have left more than ten. But she hadn't needed a single one in the end.

Hermione set the towel down and picked up another one she did not recognize. With another pang of reminiscence, Hermione realize the washbasin was also Ginny's. It was the same blue and white speckled one Ginny had used to keep her clean wet laundry in before she hung it to dry.

Before she could help herself, Hermione began to break apart. It felt as though she were floating above herself, watching the scene unfold, emotionless and isolated. It was too difficult to be continuously reminded of the best friends she had lost, not just one, but all three. Harry had kept all of these things, probably the only few he could find since the house had been destroyed by deatheaters. She hoped he kept these things to remind himself of the cost of war, and what he had lost to it. Hermione had no mementoes but her own memory.

She cleared her throat and walked back to Malfoy's bedroom. She set the basin on his writing desk, soaking the towel in the lukewarm water.

He said nothing, but Hermione knew he was reading her face. He was too alert for his own good.

"I can manage it," he said trying to take the towel from her.

"No, I'll do it" Hermione said firmly, she needed to work to keep her mind from straying into dangerous territory.

Hermione could tell that he felt either uncomfortable or awkward about the idea of being bathed. Har, he was finally getting what he wanted, a servant. But he didn't gloat, far from it, he simply watched her silently as she wrung out the towel and began to wipe the blood off his legs. Hermione worked her way up; gently she dabbed his chest, especially around the wound that had not been able to heal magically. It seemed apparent to Hermione that this wound was from a werewolf's claws. It was the only deep and messy gash Hermione hadn't been able to shut with magic. It had healed tentatively overnight. Hermione sat him up wordlessly, and Malfoy made no reply. He seemed rather shy to her, even perturbed. Hermione washed the towel and wrung it out again. She wiped off his back; it had angry red slashes all across. Nothing terribly deep, luckily, since Hermione had missed this area last night.

Finally she removed the dried blood from his face, patiently, like a mother with a child. "Ow" he muttered grabbing her wrist, for the second time, as Hermione wiped a little carelessly across the deep head wound crawling out of his hairline.

"Let go," she murmured. He dropped his hand immediately.

"You're scaring me"

"Me?" Hermione said hesitantly, her brows rising.

"Yes you"

"Oh…"

"There's that same peculiar look on your face…"

Hermione turned away from him, throwing the towel into the bloody water. It splashed softly causing droplets to fly out onto the desk and floor. "What look?" she said unemotionally, opening the cupboards in the room, looking for clean sheets.

"The same look you had in school, or when I'd seen you before a battle, that look you have before you do something desperate and reckless" he explained, his voice tight.

"Well, I'm not planning on doing anything" Hermione explained pulling out a set of old, but clean sheets.

"You're lying"

"So are you"

He became silent, as did Hermione. She didn't want to have this discussion right now. Hermione pulled out a flat sheet. She cut it into even strips with the wand.

Malfoy's eyes warily followed her. Hermione hated being watched this way, it made her incredibly self-conscious. It felt obvious enough that he was following the wand movements; perhaps afraid she would actually attack him.

She began to wrap the first bandage around his middle, worried that the chest wound would not close properly if it were unbound. She heard him inhale sharply; it must have been incredibly painful. When she was done, Hermione tied the ends with a strong knot.

She got up and walked back to the cupboard. Behind her she could hear Malfoy standing up slowly. Hermione didn't say a word. He left he room soundlessly. Hermione exhaled turning around. She ripped the sheets of the bed furiously, tears rimming her eyes.

* * *

Hermione came downstairs a little while later; Malfoy was sitting on the couch, fully dressed. He looked worried, which equally worried Hermione. She walked over to the fridge opening it, "there's no food," she said calmly, as though the fact wasn't totally shocking at all. But it did leave the question of what they were going to eat. There wasn't even any food left to charm. "But…I thought there was…"

"It's a double ended fridge" Malfoy said in annoyance, "Somewhere out there, somebody has emptied their own fridge"

"What…why would Harry-"

"Because then he needn't purchase food while here. We're just unlucky it seems"

"So we've no food" Hermione moped.

"Yes" he agreed.

"What…"

"You need to go out and purchase some" Malfoy rationalized, "Come here" he waved her over.

She walked over cautiously. Malfoy looked at her piercingly, Hermione stared back into his grey eyes, "We're in this together now, there's no me or you, it's _you and I_" Hermione's eyes widened incredulously. What was this all about?

Then a second later she realized as he passed her his wand. He was telling her that they were in the same boat, and should Hermione decide to run away, or get caught, she couldn't rely on Malfoy's name to protect her anymore. He was as vulnerable as she was. Brilliant.

"Money" he said handing her a wad of muggle money, "and this"

Hermione took the small piece of paper; she unfolded it, read the address, and then threw it into the fireplace.

"If you just keep walking straight, two kilometers away there is a small hamlet, you'll be able to purchase whatever you think needed there"

"Alright" Hermione said grabbing Malfoy's black cloak sitting on the back of the chair and swinging it over her shoulders. She took one last look at his sullen face and then left.

* * *

Hermione felt anxious, and she didn't know what about. But that was the funny thing about anxiety; it wasn't the same as fear. Fear was always in relation to a thing in particular. Anxiety though, was just a feeling that came over you. Hermione had experience anxiety only a few times before in her life. And it always arrived in unexpected moments, even when life was perfectly good. The most unusual thing about anxiety was it's eerie sense of calm. Hermione felt fine, everything seemed lucid and straight to her, but she couldn't rid of the unnamed black cloud over her.

But she had genuine worries besides her dark premonitions. Firstly, she was quiet far from the protection of the fidelius charm. Hermione was an open target at the very moment. She and Malfoy had been chased to the house, so even if the deatheaters had been displaced, they would still remember the surrounding area of where they had disappeared. It was worrisome to think they were still somewhere nearby searching for them. Especially considering what happened in the early hours today.

Hermione felt as though she still didn't realize the gravity of what had occurred last night. She could conclude for herself that Malfoy had been called to Voldemort. She could not understand why he went though; it was clear from the moment the deatheaters appeared in Sicily that Malfoy had erred. So why had he put himself in such danger? Had he thought he would be able to plead his case, charm his way into Voldemort's good graces, or that simply by showing up he would have seemed innocent? Hermione shuddered. How had he returned alive? He would never have been allowed to go, not when they injured him so gravely. With such wounds, they had meant to kill him, not punish him. And since then, Malfoy had been unnaturally grave; whatever had occurred was affecting him in ways Hermione couldn't comprehend.

And where was Harry? Hermione was concerned for him as well. What had the two of them done? And what game was Malfoy playing? Why was he angering Voldemort? There were so many questions Hermione did not have answers to, and it was becoming harder day by day to accept that. She wanted to know Malfoy, and to understand his actions, and to see clearly the world around her. But the day may never come. They would both likely die before then. Hermione hadn't much hope for her survival. In a nation owned by Voldemort, it was only a matter of time before Hermione was killed, not a question of if.

She could finally see the hamlet ahead now. It wasn't any larger than Hogsmeade, but the level of activity was not the same. Hogsmeade was a busy dwelling all of the time. This little village was void of life, nobody walked along the streets, no kiosks were outside, and no children anywhere. She paused, every fiber in her body telling her to turn back around and run. Something was wrong. Hermione immediately cast a disillusionment charm. She watched herself melt away, practically invisible, but nowhere near as good as Harry's invisibility cloak.

She walked down into town, feeling a little more confident, but still wary. Hermione could see that there were some people standing outside of shops, chatting, or bargaining, but all subdued. She passed the post shop, and a clothing store; there was a produce store to her right. Inside the store, there was only one girl leaning behind the counter, reading. Hermione made a note to return there once she had made sure the town was deatheater free.

Two men standing in front of a hardware store were whispering frantically, one man wringing his hat in his hands. The other man had taken on a consoling tone. Hermione moved closer, to hear their conversation.

"They were here two days ago…"

"They showed up last night again, early hour of the morning. Tortured some people…killed poor Maud"

"From the flower shop?" said the other man in disbelief, the fact hitting hard.

"That's the one," said the first man, his knuckles white and gripping his cap.

"What do they want with us? We're just a village, no more than three hundred of us here…"

"They're looking for someone…it's why they've been around so often. I'm afraid if they don't find him…"

"Don't worry Larry" said the first man to the one holding the hat "They'll go away once they realize what they're looking for isn't here"

"You don't understand," said Larry breathlessly. Hermione moved closer, to stand right next to him, "They're ruthless these wizards…they won't leave us be, they'll torture and kill us all before they go. We've got to leave before that happens"

"Where would we go? It's no better anywhere else" said the first man reasonably. It really didn't matter where they were, the deatheaters would find all the muggles and kill them eventually, as soon as they were no longer useful.

"I've a sister in London…"

Hermione walked away, feeling bitter and cold. London was the worst place he could go, that was where Voldemort held the tightest reigns. It was true in a city of so many there was better opportunity to blend in, but life was much more difficult. Little hamlets like this one could almost live normally. Deatheaters didn't care much for small places like this, since they caused no harm to them.

She walked to a small alley between two houses and removed the charm. It seemed the deatheaters were gone for now, and it was going to be her only opportunity to get the necessary things. And not just food, but a first aid kit, and some hygiene products that Harry blatantly overlooked. Hermione walked back to the produce shop and entered, the doorbell announcing her arrival.

The girl at the counter looked up fearfully. Her expression did not relax once she viewed Hermione, it must have been the cloak, what a bad idea. Hermione smiled at her, hoping it would calm her nerves.

"Hello, how are you today?" the girl asked tersely.

"Not so well" Hermione frowned.

The girl frowned back "Oh dear, why's that?"

"Maud was killed last night," Hermione said, deciding to play along.

"How do you know Maud?" she replied, crossing her arms, skeptical about Hermione.

"I'm her niece" Hermione lied, and then realized it was a bad lie. But to her surprise the girl nodded sadly.

"Maud had said you'd be visiting this week, you're Ellen, right? I'm sorry for your loss, but it's best you get out of here right now. The townspeople will bury her and make the arrangements, if you've got somewhere else to be, you should go"

"You think they'll return?" Hermione asked, picking up a bag of green beans.

"Yes, I'm sure of it" the shop girl asserted.

Hermione quickly finished her shopping and moved the next general store. She kept up with the pretense of being Maud's niece since nobody seemed to suspect her. She was now laden with bags, Hermione needed to shrink them, there was no way she could carry all of them back. She slipped into another vacant alley. There was an overturned garbage can, and broken glass, remnants of the days before. Quickly Hermione charmed her purchases, and placed them into her pant pocket. But there didn't seem to be need for haste, the streets were empty. She bent down to tie her shoe, but instead she picked up a piece of folded parchment that had been dropped on the floor. It was parchment, fine grain, not paper. She unfolded it with trembling fingers.

_Id meis oculis vidi. Id cum eis fecit. Timeo idem periculum quod timetis. Voldemort admonetur. Periculum non visum erat. His rebus auditis, coepit timere. Non possum ei persuadere. Imperavit eis ut hoc facerent. Semetipsum ecce damni. _

"I saw it with my own eyes. He did it with them. I share your fears. Voldemort is being warned. The danger had not been seen before. Having now heard these things, he is afraid. I cannot persuade him otherwise. He commanded them to do this. It is now lost" Hermione mumbled to herself. It was in Latin. Hermione read the note again, trying to understand its context. The Latin was a little rough grammatically, but nevertheless written rather elegantly. Not a beginner's work.

Someone, had seen Voldemort being warned about…what? It looked too hopeful to Hermione, but it almost seemed as though a traitor of Voldemort's wrote this note. But the hope died as quickly as it had appeared, the author said it was lost. What was lost? Clearly Voldemort had been warned about a coup or a danger to his power, and now it was removed.

Who had written this? Hermione turned the paper over, as though she were expecting to see someone's name on the back. Whoever this was, they were more educated than the average Hogwarts graduate, let alone most deatheaters. Latin was not a language wizards had bothered to learn in the last four decades. The individual could have been very old…but whom was the note addressed to? And had it even made it into the recipient's hands? Hermione tucked it into her pocket. She cast the disillusionment charm again and headed back up to the fields. The two men from before were now gone. And all of the shops were closed or in the process, it must have been around five by now, and Hermione could feel the pangs of hunger like knife wounds. She couldn't not reason which day it was, but felt embarrassed to ask anyone, for she knew she would only be given a date. It was a weekday if the shops were closing now…she had lost all sense of time. Not that it was terribly important for her, time moved in strange and changing blocks lately, not in hours or days.

Hermione began to speed up as the sky darkened. She couldn't get caught in the dark here. She was too afraid to light the wand in case there were deatheaters nearby, it would give her away. The same feeling of dread began to creep over her. Something was awry, but it was difficult to discern what when so many things had gone to pot. Hermione looked around nervously. If she was caught now, she was dead, there was no fight or run, it would be the end. She passed the stile, and the little farmhouse beyond it. To her right was the sweeping field of grains she and Malfoy had run through. And there was the fence. Hermione concentrated on the cottage and entered the fence. She sighed with relief as she realized she could see the house. The gate closed behind her with a creak and thud, it wouldn't have kept anyone out regardless of being closed. She walked up to the cottage, picking up the discarded beaters bat and taking it with her. Hermione opened the door slowly and slipped in. Malfoy wasn't downstairs.

Hermione removed everything from her pockets and enlarged it. She wondered if she put it in the fridge how long would it last, could the people on the other side remove her food? If so, they could be starving again. Finally, Hermione decided to charm one of the kitchen cupboards into a makeshift icebox, it was safer this way. She left out the food she planned to prepare. Corn, potatoes, and some pork; reaching the limits of her culinary prowess. Quickly and efficiently the water was set to boil, the potatoes peeled by floating knife, the oven preheated, and the corn husked. Hermione lazily supervised the tasks. Malfoy's wand felt so comfortable in her fingers, it made her lament the loss of her own wand. Once it had been ripped from her hand permanently, Hermione felt like she lost a bit of herself. And she still felt that way. Malfoy's wand was nice and all, but it wasn't hers, it was his, and it would never work for her the way hers had.

The piece of parchment caught her eye again. Hermione wondered if she should show it to Malfoy at all. He likely understood what it was about, but it was just as likely he wouldn't explain it to Hermione. She was torn.

As if on cue, she heard him reaching the second floor landing. Hermione picked up the note and placed it back in her pocket. She would think about it before showing him.

She watched him clumsily walk down the stairs; he must have still been in pain. "You're back," he said coolly, but Hermione heard a tinge of relief give way in his voice. "And making dinner?" he added, pleasantly surprised. Hermione turned back to the stove, ignoring him.


	17. SoSo Love

Chapter 17: So-so Love

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

He turned the radio turned on.

Hermione frowned; she didn't want to listen to the news, which lately had only been of the bad variety.

_"A large slaughter occurred in Berwick-Upon-Tweed yesterday, the town is in a state of national emergency, this is the third town to be attacked in greater numbers in the whole of the Kingdom this month…"_

She heard Malfoy's sharp intake of breath.

Hermione had seen the signs, Tweedmouth, 10km south. They were too close for comfort. It was more likely that she and Malfoy were the cause of the latest murders, since the deatheaters had followed them to this area. The knowledge only ladled on the guilt thicker.

_"…All civilians are being warned to remain inside their homes"_

"Fat load of good that will do them" Hermione muttered angrily as she threw the potatoes in the spitting pan. Before, when there had been enough free wizards left, muggles were safer, having their magical neighbors look out for them. Now they were sitting ducks, left to fate.

The station became static, then changed.

_"Apparently there's infighting now" _Lee Jordan said in a morbidly intrigued tone. Hermione's ears prickled, Malfoy had found the ever-elusive rebellion station. Impressive, and likely not a mistake.

_"Yeah mate, I'm not sure it's a good thing,"_ said a man unknown to Hermione.

_"Why's that?"_

_"A united deatheater front is a controlled one. If they're arguing between each other, it means there's no regulator, which means random attacks and a worse mess than we could imagine"_

_"I see your point"_ Lee agreed "_In other news, the deatheaters are actively searching for Hermione Granger now, who seems to have escaped her captor Draco Malfoy. Naturally a reward is being offered for her return to the deatheaters"_

_"It's exciting to think there's a member of the golden trio out there still fighting for the good of mankind. I remember Hermione from Hogwarts, wickedly intelligent and upright"_

Hermione scoffed. Lee shared her sentiment.

_"I doubt she's fighting right now. More likely running for her life. If anyone in the Order of the Phoenix"_ all of the survivors called themselves members now _"sees Granger, be sure to help her and hide her well, do your jobs as promised"_

_"Until next time, keep the fight"_

_ "Keep the fight"_

The station sizzled out, replaced by soft jazz. "What a load of bull" she said in annoyance, throwing a rather large stick of butter into the pan.

"The deatheaters don't want everyone knowing…" Malfoy said, fascinated by this news. Hermione realized the knife was chopping the board now, all of the meat properly sliced and sitting in a bowl. She shook herself out of her reverie and began to cook again, focusing on not burning the potatoes.

* * *

After dinner, they sat silently in the living room. In the hearth a large fire was burning, the radio was turned off. Hermione was fully, sleepy, and felt detached. Everything seemed too silly to her now. Here they were, sitting in Harry's cottage, protected at the time from everything raging on outside. But it didn't feel right. Hermione hated the idea of being stuck here, and being of no use to anyone.

"You're going to get yourself killed" she sighed, staring at the fire.

Malfoy looked at her curiously, and then shrugged, "It was only a matter of time"

"So, you've been prepared for this? Since when? Since you ran out on us two years ago…" Hermione asked "Or before that, maybe even since you learned how to spell your surname". Hermione felt nervous saying these things, what if it incited further discussion? She wasn't sure she wanted to know anything about the issue, even though she was perfectly aware it was time to come out.

"I knew, when I had met you, the three of you. Not even a week later, I'd been told my part" he smiled curiously "Of course, not all at once. But I learned through the years what role I was to play". Hermione couldn't tell if he was bitter, or remorseful about it. Something she had been wondering about Harry since four years ago, when they realized the truth.

"I can't believe he did that," Hermione said thoughtfully, trying to recall that day so long ago, "he was an awful man sometimes"

"But a genius, he knew what would happen" Malfoy added blithely.

"He knew what would happen because it was orchestrated by him. And then, just how has this worked in accordance with his grand arrangements? No different than any of the others he's concocted"

"Potter's alive"

"Yes, but many others are dead," Hermione mumbled.

"I'm sorry for that"

"So, why didn't you tell me" she asked inquiringly. She felt no animosity towards him; after all she was wickedly intelligent. Even during the worst of times, the possibility was always running through her mind, even if she usually needed to suppress such rampantly rosy thoughts.

Malfoy looked at her peculiarly, "But you knew"

"That's doesn't change the fact you didn't tell me. In fact, it makes it even worse. I doubted much about you for a long time, and now I think I feel a little guilty. I don't like it, it isn't fair"

"I wasn't supposed to tell you, that much was obvious" he frowned staring back into the fire.

"Another of Dumbledore's philosophies?"

He frowned at her, "Sure, Dumbledore's at first, if you're asking about recently, then it was Potter's. I wasn't to tell you about what was occurring incase the deatheaters caught on to something and took you hostage. Then you wouldn't have know, and have been impervious to potions"

"They would have killed me all the same," she said anxiously.

"I never implied they wouldn't"

Outside the wind was picking up. It was going to storm tonight. Summer was long over, and autumn was hitting hard. Seeing the way the summer had been, it was likely winter would arrive early this year.

"So, where does this convoluted scheme leave us? Dumbledore told you long ago what to do. When you saw we were losing, you put the plan in action and took refuge with Voldemort, taking enough time to garner his trust. Harry was defeated inexplicably after the horcruxes hunt failed miserably. But you managed to convince him to take Harry under his wing securing his life. And now you and Harry are trying to conceive of a way to destroy Voldemort, but you've had a string of unsuccessful attempts. Voldemort has caught you betraying him and you've lost his confidence, now Harry is alone in the nest…what about Ron?" Hermione asked suddenly, though she knew her hopefulness was about to be burst.

"I don't know. He was a loose cannon," Malfoy said honestly, avoiding her gaze, clearly anticipating this question "we never expected him. In fact, he was supposed to be here, on the other side helping the rebellion…we lost him" Her mind flashed back to the note she'd found earlier, sitting in her pocket.

"And I?" she asked hesitantly.

Malfoy said nothing.

"Me" Hermione repeated, "What about me, what do I have to do with all this"

"Nothing"

"Horse piss" she replied contemptuously.

"No, you really have nothing to do with this…besides your involvement with me" he answered.

"But, that was Harry, he was sup-"

"No, that was me" Malfoy exhaled "It was I, and my selfishness. In fact, you would have been safer in your little dungeon, rather than by my side. Potter knew, and I knew. He gave you to me in confidence, because I begged him… he knew where'd you'd be safest, but he took the risk because of me, because he felt he owed me, and he didn't want to be in my debt, as you can imagine. And consequently I've almost gotten you killed a number of times. I'm sure you can conceive, he's not too impressed with me"

"Because?" Hermione asked.

"Because what?"

"You asked for me…because?"

"Well…"

"That's okay," Hermione said abruptly, cutting him off "I suppose you wouldn't tell me the truth anyway"

"I shouldn't need to tell you, you know perfectly well why I did the things I did. At least you should," he agreed.

"You wouldn't have left if it were true" Hermione replied bitterly.

"You think so, but you would have done the same twice over if it were your choice" Malfoy said indignantly. "You seem fine though, no worse off than anybody else because of it. And it was easier this way. Easier for everyone who didn't know"

"No. It wasn't easy at all; you left. And left me disconsolate. Then all these things started happening, and I had nobody. I lost my best friend, my family, everyone I ever loved or knew. And nobody knew…so when you left I had nobody to tell, nobody to share the pain with. I had to pretend I was fine…then Ron disappeared. We had to change camps, it was so terrifying, like the blanket had been lifted off, and we were all under there naked. I had nightmares about what would happen…then it did. Nothing about it was easy," she said scathingly.

Malfoy said nothing in his defense.

"I can't believe you lied to me…for so many years"

"You knew I was lying"

"Not at first" Hermione said frowning, "I was so horrified at first, thinking how you'd changed…what you would do to me…It was only later I realized that something wasn't what it appeared to be."

"Do you hate me?" he asked curiously.

"No, you pisspot" she grumbled, "Of course I don't hate you. It's shocking for me personally, but I don't hate you at all. If anything, I actually appreciate you more for the idiotic things you've done"

"Good, I've missed you a little Hermione. It's been difficult trying to be evil. I've slipped so many times, which is why I'm in so much trouble right now" he grinned, then his smile slid off his face.

"Can you tell me why you're in trouble?" she questioned.

He shook his head.

"Fine, what can you tell me?"

"I can tell you Potter's slipping, Voldemort is beginning to doubt him, it all might begin to fall downhill soon" he said worriedly, his face darkening.

"Well, what's going to happen now? Can it be prevented?"

"I'm glad you asked," he said, but Hermione he didn't look glad at all, "There's something you could do. But you're not obliged…"

"Go on"

"Tomorrow, I'm dropping you off somewhere…somewhere where Weasley-"

"Yes" Hermione said standing up.

"I haven't even explained, it's dangerous"

"I'll do it"

"Just hear me out," Draco pleaded reaching out for her "Don't agree so quickly".

"But…" Hermione frowned sitting back down on the couch. Her mind finally catching up with her mouth.

"Yes?"

"You think he would tell me anything?" she grimaced. "I spent months with you, and I just now managed to convince you to say you weren't Voldemort's pet. How difficult do you think it will be with somebody who is so involved? That's the real plan isn't it? You want me to pull out the information"

Draco stared at her blankly "Yes, that's the plan" he frowned and looked away, disconcerted with her willingness "We're relying on the fact that he…" he grimaced "Has feelings for you"

Hermione scoffed loudly, "The only _feelings_ he has for me, are those of ill will. I think I'll regret this"

"I agree. I hate this idea, but I promised Potter I'd try and convince you. But I'd prefer if you didn't want to do it, you know you don't have to Hermione, I'd never force you"

"Oh Merlin…"she whispered sinking into the cushions dejectedly. "It's not like I can say no…it's just not me. And you and Harry know that too well. I'd never have said no. Perhaps I shouldn't have said yes so quickly…but I'd never have said no"

"I'm sure he was counting on it" Draco agreed.

"How is this supposed to be played out? I just randomly show up somewhere?" she asked finally coming to the details.

"No…we'll make it seem like I abandoned you. Making you more sympathetic, and Weasley less suspicious of you"

"But if I can even make it into his house…I'm alone" Hermione said in horror, and horrified by the fact that she still wanted to attempt this. "I'm as good as dead…there's nobody there to…"

"For the record, I want to repeat this is an incredibly stupid plan" Draco added.

"But you think I should do it?"

"I think it's all we have right now"

"He's wicked… If I become his prey, will I get out alive? But I have to risk my life, to get a chance to live," she whispered to herself.

"You're slipping Hermione, you've been hiding too long. I think you've forgotten how clever you are"

"When I was younger, it didn't seem so wrong to throw myself in the fire. But I've been hurt too many times. Yet, it's not exactly verve where I am, it's not living here either…" she mused, frowning.

Draco stood and drew the curtains close, hiding the worsening weather outside.

"Well, I'm not likely to change my mind, so tell me what I need to do" Hermione stated, placing her hands between her knees, to keep them from shaking.

Draco looked at her in surprise. "It'll be very difficult. And, there's no point in denying it the fact, you might not live to get out"

"I know"

"Then, this is what I know"


	18. Baby, We'll Be Fine

**Chapter 18: Baby, We'll Be Fine**

**A/N:** I don't own Harry Potter, and I do not own Dr. Who. (Anybody else aching for the Christmas Special? I am!)

* * *

Hermione turned and turned again. She wasn't going to get much sleep tonight, but perhaps it would help for an altogether more convincing act tomorrow; dark circles, skittish movements and the whole bundle of nerves. In only a few hours she would have to slip out of bed, get dressed, and walk down into town to patiently wait for him to find her.

Draco had discovered from Harry that Ron was convinced they were still in the area. And though Voldemort no longer cared for their retrieval, clearly larger worries plagued him, Ron had been coming back to this area a couple times a day, searching. It terrified her to think he was stalking about outside, like a predator waiting for his prey to show up. But it was convenient. This was where they'd apparated, so if Hermione showed up here, it would have not seemed so inexplicable.

If he didn't kill her on sight, she was to lead him back to the cottage. Hermione was not to show it to him, and he wouldn't be able to see it himself. But he would be able to sense the charm hiding it. Again, helping her case. Hermione wasn't too worried about this part though, she was certain that Draco would be gone by then…

There was this uncanny mixture of simply becoming accustomed to the bizarre ritual between her and Draco, the snide remarks, the cruelty, the lies… and the sensation that something _could be there still, even after all this time_. The more seconds that passed the more everything she'd heard tonight had sunk it. Her heart would swell with joy, and just as quickly deflate once she recognized the reality. The world was punishing, only to offer her something she could never have. Even worse, Hermione was well aware that after today, she might never see Draco again. This morning might be their final goodbye. Either she would die before completing her task, or he would die doing whatever he planned to go on to now. There wasn't much hope for them, and she wasn't putting any stock in it. They were over before they had even begun, a so-so love. The only optimism flickering in her mind was that perhaps she would soon see Harry. If she lived past today, she could probably expect to see Harry tonight. For Ron's certain gloating at having discovered her meant he'd invite Harry over to revel about the whole thing.

A sick and pathetic part of her acknowledged that if Ron killed her immediately, things would end simply for everyone. There were many things worse than death, as she had come to know in her last fifteen years of life on Harry's left side. She'd seen people beg for death when faced with horrible alternatives, only Voldemort didn't seem to understand this as he continued to transcend and evade his demise. The rest of her time with Ron would certainly be miserable. In addition, if she would even think for a moment about what it had been like with Draco, then Hermione realized how foolish she had been. Draco had never been cruel, he had had fits of anger, and occasionally wounded her pride, but it had not been nasty or calculating, or real misery. Had she known what spitefulness was, she would have known long ago how lovely it was at the Malfoy Manor. For whatever was waiting for her from today, would be much more difficult to bear.

Hermione pushed the feelings down, trying to concentrate on her breathing and clear her mind. The longer she dwelled on everything the more apprehensive she'd become; it was a fatalistic trap she constantly fell into.

"_You're nearer, than my head is to my pillow. Nearer than the wind is to the willow…_" Hermione whispered melodically, a song from the radio earlier recurring in her mind.

She could hear him walking downstairs. It felt as though she'd barely closed her eyes. Outside it was still pitch black, and a depressing drizzle falling, unable to disperse the growing fog. Fitting weather for her mood. She starred groggily at the wall clock, waiting for her eyes to adjust. In fact, Hermione had barely closed her eyes. Forty-fives minutes to be exact; it was Draco who was up far earlier than compulsory.

Hermione swung her legs out of bed dejectedly; she wasn't going to sleep anymore anyway, so it was time to get on.

* * *

"Morning" Draco said, cautiously omitting the 'good'.

"Barely" Hermione sighed sitting down heavily on the couch.

"I couldn't sleep. That's my excuse, what's yours?"

"Same. I think I had a long blink," she said with a wry smile.

He tried to smile back, but it looked more like a misshapen grimace.

"What are you doing?" Hermione chuckled finally taking in the scene. He'd taken down three of the cabinet doors and was trying to screw another out.

Draco stared at her blankly; "Just making some repairs" It seemed more like 'making a mess' to Hermione. Likely he was trying to keep busy.

"Repairs?"

"Well, I was thinking about joining all of these together to make a large icebox"

"And a wand can't do that?"

"It can…" he muttered distractedly. Hermione was certain then that he was as absolutely terrified as she was. It had to be that bad if he'd gone to the lengths of muggle carpentry.

"This thing doesn't work," he said shaking the screwdriver angrily.

"Not sonic enough?"

"Ha. If that were the case, I'd go back in time and kill Voldemort the moment he landed in that orphanage, and maybe check if there are wizards on other planets, and maybe find time to figure out a character piece, like a scarf or hat…or cufflinks" Draco muttered bitterly.

"Yes, too bad it's make belief," Hermione added wistfully, there wasn't even a telly in this cottage, nothing to help escape into that safe pretend world where nobody died and nothing mattered.

"You could say the same thing about magic alright; to muggles it's nothing but a yarn. Even now, people just think Voldemort is another Hitler with intelligent weapons, they ignore the absolute facts before them" he explained.

"Even in these sinister times, when it seems so obvious"

"I always thought it was comical they called Dr. Who-less years '_the dark years'_…guess Britain wasn't aware it could get darker" Draco chuckled dryly, righting the hinge. "Potter really let this place rot, but then again he doesn't spend any time here"

"And likely will not ever again after today" Hermione sighed.

Draco looked up at her in surprise; she looked away, facing the hearth. "_The dark years_…that's a good name for it. Better than, 'the years where everyone died'" Hermione pondered sadly.

"It seems very imprudent to ask. But are you prepared?" he asked dropping the screwdriver into the sink and changing the subject.

"As best as I'll ever be" she replied, trying to look confident with a smile.

Draco stared back at her, his face pallid and eyes bloodshot. He looked more worried than she even felt. But Hermione understood. It wasn't just a personal move for her; it was a tactical gain for the whole movement. If she managed to infiltrate Ron's home, and gain access to knowledge about Voldemort, it was almost unthinkable what there was to be gained for her team. She had almost lost sight of this in her egocentric worrying.

It was currently team Hermione, and she was the leader. It wouldn't be the first time she was being relied on as a last attempt. Ron and Harry had always looked to her last for help, being too stubborn to come to the conclusion they couldn't resolve whatever the issue of the week was. But back then; she had always been reliable Hermione. She knew everything, the walking encyclopedia. It was much simpler to spit out facts than to be conniving and implement rhetoric in order to seek out the desired result. That was what Draco excelled at; that was Harry's undeniable charisma. Hermione preferred to translate ancient runes. It was all too easy to see her failures, and how they could result in an even larger failure. There was so much more to lose this time, the pressure on everyone's shoulder infinitely greater.

No matter how 'certain' they all seemed, there was nothing certain about what could happen today. And that was frightening.

The coffee machine hissed, and began to percolate; outside the wind only seemed to be picking up. Hermione snapped out of her reverie.

"This weather" Draco mumbled from behind her.

"It's not a coincidence, is it?"

"I'm not certain, is anything a coincidence lately? If that's your logic, well, then this could very well be an omen"

"How are…you, and your body?" Hermione asked, the wording coming out strangely.

"Stiff, bruised, but alive…Thanks" he added as an afterthought.

"You're welcome"

"I tried removing some of these bruises on my face, but I'm not as skilled as you" he grimaced taking out mugs.

Hermione noted that the black and blue on his face had become predominantly more yellow and green. "Well, you can go about it the muggle way and just wait for them to go away. Are you ever going to tell me what you did to deserve that beating?"

"I don't think it will make you like me more. So no" he replied pouring out the steaming coffee.

"Fair enough, but it may no longer be relevant. There's only so much time left, so much to say" Hermione shrugged, turning back around to look out the window. It was five in the morning, but outside it was impossible to tell the time. This far north, the sun should have begun to rise, but the clouds impeded it.

"Here" he said, handing her a mug avoiding eye contact. Hermione took it gingerly, the coffee sloshing about inside.

He sat down on the opposite end of the couch, his own mug in hand. He was thinking so frantically; she could practically hear the gears in his head whirring. "Don't worry," she said.

"You're being preposterous, it's virtually an impossibility for me to not be worried" Draco frowned.

"I'm sure thing will work out fine" Hermione soothed.

"In a matter of hours you become miss optimism? What exactly is fine for you Hermione? No matter which way you look at this nothing is fine, and nothing will turn out fine…things can only get worse. So unless 'fine' is code for 'bloody awful', things are not going to be 'fine'"

"Like you said, nobody was forcing me to do it. If I didn't want to, I probably wouldn't have agreed to this scheme. However frightened, or alarmed I am by the possible outcomes, I know it's better than not trying at all. Besides, even if it goes awry, I wouldn't be the first nor the last person to lose their life in this fight. I'm no different than any of other people out there who lost their lives to the deatheaters. The only thing that makes me who I am, are the choices I make"

"You're different to me," Draco said bitterly, "and to Potter" he added.

"To you? Maybe, but still doubtful" Hermione smiled, "But for Harry, I'm no more special than anybody else. When you are the most extraordinary person in the world, it's difficult to suppose anybody else could be as extraordinary as you. And it's not Harry's fault. Nor is he wrong to think that way, it's true, he is the most important person in the world…and the rest of us are here to support him"

"That's a atrocious way of looking at it"

"That doesn't make it less true"

"I think that's bollocks. Damned what Potter thinks, he's got his head so far up his arse he can't even see what happening around him. Do you think he knows how far deep he's in?" Draco asked coldly. "Do you think he realizes what it's going to be like for him now that I'm not there to explain everything, to defend him, to paint a faultless picture of credibility for him to the other deatheaters? He's as doomed as the rest of us Hermione. If anybody is imperative, it's you"

Hermione pursed her lips; she hadn't realized that Harry was in quite a serious predicament. It was obvious he was alone in there…but it did make Hermione wonder why Harry was even alive. He had talent, but no more talent than she did. He was courageous, but what use was that courage on the other side. So, why was Voldemort keeping him alive at his side and for how much longer?

"You're the only one who can turn this around now. I don't think I could possibly put any more pressure on you, but I don't want you to be misled about this. Potter is wetting his pants in present company, they suspect him due to his connection with me, and he's got not sway at all now. He needs you as much as we all do"

"Hmm, that was a very inspirational and terrifying speech" Hermione mused, sipping her coffee.

"I'm just telling you, if you think you're alone from now on. Then yes, you're really alone, Potter can't help you. Only you can help yourself, so you need to be conscious of every single decision you make. There's no net for you, one slip and you're dead"

"Of course"

* * *

The wet grass under her feet sank beneath her. The leaves had composed into brown smelly mulch; the whole area seemed to have that decaying smell. It made her stomach churn nervously.

"Here?" she asked looking around guardedly.

"As good a place as any"

"And you're sure he'll come this way?" Hermione fretted wringing her hands in her shirt. It was cold, and she didn't even have a jacket. But it had to look at least slightly realistic; after all, she had been abandoned. Why would she have a proper jacket?

"Quite, wish I wasn't" Draco frowned rubbing his face.

"How long then?"

"Half an hour, at most"

Hermione turned on the spot, exhaling and took in her surroundings. It was a lightly wooded area, just left of the hamlet, a perfect spot for stealthy apparition, and exactly where Draco and Harry hypothesized _he_ would show up. Her heart was beating like a hammer, causing her whole body to throb with pain. She was terrified beyond any fear she'd felt before. It was taking all her strength to not become a babbling mess right now.

"Wish I could say 'don't worry' as easily as you did" Draco grimaced leaning against a tree. Trying to look composed, but it wasn't convincing in the least. His pale face was completely strained, and it made Hermione feel more ill at ease to see him so worried. It made her think she still didn't realize how dangerous this was, which was impossible, for the danger was apparent. And that was alarming.

"You can say it. It may not be appropriate advice, but you can say it" Hermione swallowed, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. She was aware of the time slipping.

"Hermione"

"Yes?" she exhaled expectantly.

"I…good luck"

Hermione frowned in disappointment, but she was relieved, "Yeah…thank you"

"Let's not complicate this, so, let's just say goodbye"

"It's already complicated" she laughed, the sound hollow and artificial. Like a small bell. "What don't you want to complicate? It's too late; it's been too late since…forever. This was all part of the grand plan right. But it's turning back on you"

"Yeah, I suppose so" he admitted sadly.

"Well, life isn't fair I guess. So perhaps for your sake we should make this simple. After all, you are worried that if I die it will make it harder for you. It won't" Hermione assured him "You'll see that eventually. But, if I survive, I'll see you again" she grinned extending her hand. "Think of it that way, if we both survive this…I'll take you out on a date"

"A date? Seems silly to think about that now. Seems impossible really" he grimaced taking her hand. "If you…don't make it…"

"I know, it's the end right? Last hope Hermione…isn't it the case" Hermione interjected.

She looked him up and down, her chest tight and itchy. "Farewell for now" Hermione sighed giving in to her better senses and wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled her lips tight across her teeth, squeezing her eyes tight. She could feel his arms bound tightly around her back. After ten seconds Hermione pulled away quickly, keeping her eyes directed to the ground. Quick and clean, like cutting the cord.

"You better get going, can't have you here when he arrives. And don't wait around to see what happens, it won't help if he realizes you're nearby, you need to leave"

She heard him exhale deeply, "Of course. Best of luck" he grabbed her hand tightly, "don't' do anything rash, just please try and stay alive"

Hermione kept staring at the ground in silence; he dropped her hand. She heard him begin to walk away, and then a loud crack, Draco was gone. Her legs shook under her and Hermione crashed to the forest floor. Her breath came out in wet ragged sobs, but the sound felt detached from her actions. She could barely see from behind the streams flowing out of her eyes.

Lifting her eyes, Hermione was greeting with nothing but cold, half dead nature. He was gone, Draco had left, and now she was waiting for someone else. She wiped the tears from her eyes, but they were quickly replaced with fresh ones. As hard as she tried to compose herself, her emotions were not having it. Her heart wanted to be broken, and it was taking its veto over her good sense now.

The bizarre wet hiccups kept slipping past her lips, and the more Hermione tried to keep them in, the more erratic and louder they became. It was useless trying to stop the outpour.

Something snapped behind her. Hermione could not turn, but began to sob louder knowing what was coming. It shocked her to think how composed she had been in front of him. And a part of her hated herself for that. Why couldn't she show Draco how painful it was? Pathetic, and yet Hermione did not care. She deserved to cry as much as anybody else. All the tears she had kept inside until now, everything she had been through, all slipping past the barriers now at the worst moment possible.

Another rustle. Her lips clamped shut. There it was, the fear was overtaking the emotional mess she became. Hermione strained her ears to hear if there was somebody around, it was just as possible she had imagined the sound before due to her loudness. The wind picked up, causing leaves to crackled and fly around her. It was dim about her, the black sky, and tall tree's casting a murky brow light.

"Hermione?"

Her skin erupted in a long drawn shiver. Not her imagination. Not at all.

"Is that you?"

Panic began to rise from her feet to her head like a warm rush, the threat of fainting becoming very real. This was it, now or never. Play the part, just the same as always before. "We'll be fine…just fine," she whispered to herself and turned around, pretending to be shocked.


End file.
